Always an Alpha
by Barbayat
Summary: A somewhat longish story with the focus on Peter/Lydia told from Lydia's POV. Is set after Lunar Eclipse with a slight time jump to spring break 2012. Beacon Hills has a few supernatural visitors who are stacking up a body count, while Scott and Co. try to figure out who or what is killing people and how to stop the murders, Peter sets his own plans into motion.
1. Just a small favour

A/N: Thanks to Imera, raktajinos for betaing this for me, as well as Emeralddawn and calrissian18 for support and encouragement.

* * *

It was a lovely evening, Lydia thought. Tomorrow was her birthday and given the fact that spring break had started already, it would have been such a wonderful way to begin it; if not for the fact that in the past two weeks a number of weird accidents, animal killings and two cases of clear-cut homicide happened in the vicinity around Beacon Hills. Ever since Scott, Stiles and Allison had undergone the sacrificial ritual, they all have been dreading for something like this to happen.

The mark of the supernatural was obvious. Forensic reports were unable to name the animals which had ripped apart three grown men and two children in two weeks without being seen by anyone. Stiles' father had even let the werewolves and Allison's father take a look at the crime scenes. Eventually, Stiles had convinced him to let her have a look, to see if she sensed anything. That had not been the case, but the twins, Isaac and Scott agreed that it was not an animal. It was not another werewolf either. That was all they knew. Neither of them could make sense of what exactly it was they smelled at the crime scenes: just that it was not something natural.

Without more details, Deaton was not able to give them any information as to what might be responsible. Stiles and Scott decided that they needed help from a more experienced werewolf. Since nobody wanted to ask Peter, they had decided to use spring break and look for Derek and Cora. While both had nothing to do with the ritual, they all hoped the two remaining Hale siblings would come back and help if that meant saving innocent lives.

In light of the body count that stacked up around town, Sheriff Stilinski had decided to issue a curfew. Now that he knew about werewolves and Beacon Hills being an actual beacon for supernatural things, he was overlooking that the Twins, Isaac and Allison were driving around visiting the last crime scene. Being the only one with parents who were out of the loop, Lydia had to stay home.

She understood her parents. After all that had happened to her, getting torn up by a crazy alpha werewolf, then nearly being strangled to death by a deranged teacher who was actually a dark druid, they were worried. Lydia's parents did not even know what had happened to her in between those events. She had been too smart to tell anyone that she was hearing voices: one voice to make that more precise. It had been real, but it had felt like she was going crazy at the time.

In hindsight, as surreal as this experience had been, it had been even stranger to have Peter hang around. He was giving advice, making comments and everyone was fine with it, like nothing bad had ever happened. Even she had not said anything against him; and she had the distinct feeling, that Peter knew more about everything that was going on than he told them.

He had been helpful, that much was true, but Lydia had not forgotten what Peter had put her through. Yet, she felt someone should ask him about the ongoing events. He knew things that Derek did not. Since Lydia was not willing to ask herself, she thought she could hardly ask the others. Besides, Peter's interest so far had been primarily focused on getting Derek and Cora alive out of the last situation. Who knew if he was even willing to lift a finger or share knowledge when it came to anyone else. On this night anyway, it was out of the question, she would be stopped during curfew and did not even know where to look for him.

Lydia was stuck at home, unable to even plan a decent birthday party. Having her usually grand party was unthinkable in light of the curfew and the dreadful there was, of course, the possibility that given what happened last year, no one would come anyway. That did not bother her as much as not having the chance to help figure out what was happening. Lydia was only ever asked to use her newfound senses and she really did not want to find another torn up body. She loved to put pieces of the puzzle together, maybe translate another text. It was a good excuse not to be alone; to feel useful.

Instead, Lydia was left reading yet another book on mythological creatures. This one was in French and had arrived only two days ago. Not that it was much help. Wherever she looked the texts all said similar things about banshees. Nothing compared to what she was able to do and had experienced; her wails were not exactly announcing death and she did not feel at all like a messenger from the other world. While she had found Miss Blake's victims, or two of them, she was not even a reliable psychic. Sometimes she did pick up things but it came and go. Usually bothering her at the most inconvenient times. It seemed to her that being a banshee was mostly useless.

Those few instances, where it seemed like she was able to help, appeared, in hindsight not all that special. Like at the suicide motel. Allison was the one that had discovered the suicide count going up. All she had been doing was feeling like she was losing her mind again. Had they really needed her visions to check up on their classmates? That was the only time, she had found someone before they were dead. Though she had drawn the roots of the Nemeton, Lydia could not help but feel that they might have figured it out without her help. Either way, they still had needed to do that ritual to find it.

Just as Lydia clapped the book shut in frustration, she sensed that someone was behind her. Grabbing the heavy volume, she swung it as hard as she could from her sitting position. The person who had snuck upon her simply took it from her grasp and flipped it back open.

"You," Lydia said, feeling like a broken record.

Peter just smiled at her before looking at the first page of the Banshee entry. Lydia used that brief moment to step back. Suddenly, he clapped the book shut and threw it on her bed. Gaining on her with two swift steps, he commented with a brief look at the heavy volume. "You are not going to find what you are looking for in books that are actually printed."

Her first impulse was to ask if he really was there or if it was another of her nightmares. Lydia knew very well that Peter never was as real in her more recent dreams as he felt now. Not since he had come back from the dead or more precisely since she had helped him come back from the dead.

"What do you want?"

Her voice sounded disappointingly timid, when she had meant to appear confident. She usually was. Peter showing up in such similar circumstances as before left her feeling nervous.

"I need your help, or more precisely Derek does ..."

The way he smiled told her that he was not being entirely honest with her. Shaking her head, she remembered that being truthful was not something one could expect from him; he loved tricking people by telling them half-truths.

"My help? Maybe you should ask one of the others - someone who can actually do something useful. Besides what makes you think I am going to trust you?"

He cocked his head to the side and looked like she had said the funniest thing in the world.

"The others are actually pretty useless." Reducing the distance between them to two steps, he continued: "It is kind of cute that you think you have a choice - you should have learnt that from our past."

Lydia flinched, then kept herself together. "I am trying hard to forget about that."

"Hmm, how is that going for you?" Peter asked.

It was pretty obvious he knew that she was stuck on the trying part. Then again, as they kept bumping into each other it was kind of hard to accomplish. Lydia knew it was a horrible idea to just leave with him. Even though there was little she could do to stop him from just taking her, she thought about her options. Calling for help would just endanger her parents. If she was able to get out a message to Allison, her friend could inform the others. Lydia was no match for Peter, but Aidan could easily take him and together with Ethan he was literally able to wipe the floor with Peter.

"It would help, if you stopped showing up in my bedroom."

He laughed. "Stop showing up? It is the first time I am actually in here."

"You know what I mean."

There was something about the way he kept looking at her with this slight hint of a smile that made her heart beat just a tiny bit faster. Lydia knew he would notice but thankfully Peter did not mention it. He just nodded before pointing out they needed to go.

"I want to get back before someone else stumbles upon Derek - that might not end so well for them."

"Why is that?"

"I tell you on the way," Peter said and held his hand out to her.

"I can't just leave, if my parents notice I'm gone ..."

He turned his head to the other side and let his hand sink. Lydia could tell that he knew her parents were often totally obvious to where she was and hardly ever noticed her screaming her head off.

"I should call the others and let them know."

"Be my guest."

Lydia was surprised Peter didn't mind, until she saw there was no reception on her cell phone. How is that possible, she thought. Despite the innocent face Peter was making, Lydia had the feeling it was his doing. She couldn't understand how he did it. Somehow she doubted werewolf powers included control over electronic devices.

Sighing, she stepped past him and reached for her jacket and her handbag which she equipped with her cell phone. "Fine," she groaned. "Let's get this over with."

"Good decision."

Before she knew it, Peter had pulled her close and lifted her up. Lydia was startled by his glowing blue eyes as he changed just a bit. Then they left her room by jumping out of the largest window onto the ground below. She had found herself wrapping her arms around him a bit closer. When she felt them land on the pavement in front of her parents house, she looked at him. Stiles had told her that werewolves with blue eyes had taken an innocent life. She wondered when exactly that had happened and who it had been. Then it occurred to her that Peter looked slightly different from the others, when he transformed. When she had seen him first, he had been an alpha and that seemed to account for the difference. Now, she was not so sure anymore.

However, she was sure that he was holding onto her longer than necessary considering that they were on the ground. Their faces were way too close. Which might had something to do with the fact that she was still clinging to him. Embarrassed, she eased up and brought a few more inches between them. Just as Lydia wanted to tell him to put her down, Peter did so on his own accord. After one last look at his face, her gaze went up to her windows which were surprisingly dark.

Peter mentioned they should leave and lead her to a Jeep. The wheels were muddy which suggested it had been driven through non-asphalted roads, maybe even fields. Going into the wilderness with a werewolf seemed like a pretty bad idea. Lydia felt mildly comforted that the usual dread she felt before someone was going to get killed was not there. While that sense was not reliable by any means, it was better than a feeling of impending doom.

She looked up to her windows. Chances were low that her mother would come into her room and realise that she was gone. Still, she would be worried if her daughter was nowhere to be found. It would have been better to leave a note. Lydia was not even sure what she could have written on it. 'Mom, don't worry, I am heading out for the night with the lunatic who slashed me up after the formal. See you soon.' She might have written that she left with Aidan. As she hadn't had a chance to leave a note, it hardly mattered what she could have written.

Hearing the sound of the door opening, she saw that Peter was gallantly holding it open for her; as if that could distract her from the fact that she did not had a say in where they were going. Once she had sat down and Peter had closed the door, she checked her cell phone again; there was still no reception. Lydia was stuck with him.

"So what is wrong with Derek? Why does he need my help of all people?"

She did not mind helping Derek. Her problem was, she doubted that this was indeed what was going on. Otherwise, it made no sense to cut her off from her friends, they certainly would encourage helping Derek. They had not excluded Peter before, so the only reasonable explanation was that something else was going on.

"It has to do with your special abilities," Peter said looking briefly at her before turning his eyes back to the road. "Even if I knew another banshee, I doubt they would be willing to help."

"You know what I am?" Lydia said.

It was not a total surprise for her, not after the last thing he had said to her, when she and Ethan had come to Derek's place to warn him about Kali coming. Yet, so far only Miss Blake or whatever her name really had been had recognized what she was. Then again, she was the only one who had said anything. Lydia was less sure about Dr. Deaton. Up to the point where she had helped with the ritual, she had not spend much time with him. From what Stiles had told her and her own experience, Lydia was sure the druid knew more than he let on. Somehow, after what their former teacher had mentioned about banshees she was not sure if she wanted him to know. She trusted Stiles with her secret and he had promised her to stick with the she was something explanation. He even had tried to find out more about banshees, with the same lack of success as she'd had so far.

"I thought you were merely immune - I didn't realise there was a reason for your immunity until later, " Peter said and added with elation. "If you only knew what you are capable of."

Hearing him talk gave her the distinct notion that she might not like finding out more. The admiration in his voice was very unsettling, since she doubted it were powers that could be used for good, if he was so fond of them.

Nonetheless, she wanted to know. "What would that be?"

"A number of things, apart from finding dead bodies, you should actually be able to foretell their deaths."

Lydia took a deep breath. "I tried to do that ..."

"Ah so impatient - developing skills takes time. It's like fine-tuning an instrument. I could help you with that. But first you must do something for me - use another of your gifts."

For some reason, she didn't doubt his ability to teach her. If he was actually willing to he was probably only interested in using her powers for his own purposes. Yet, suspecting as much, Lydia was still tempted to accept his offer. After all, she might be able to use her powers for something good regardless. Even if that just meant putting an end to her waking up screaming from her really bad nightmares.

"What other gift?"

"Derek got himself possessed - you can help by getting the demon out."

"Possessed? How did that happen?"

Peter shrugged. She got the impression that he was actually amused by the situation; most likely because Derek once again needed his help. Lydia could tell how reluctant Derek was to accept help, especially from his uncle.

"I mean to ask him that - but who knows, he is rather good at getting himself into trouble. He really should know better by now."

"And what am I supposed to do about that?" Lydia asked.

"Don't worry - if you do as I say it will work out just as fine as the last time."

If Lydia had ever heard a less reassuring statement, that had to be it.

"Like me getting tons of nightmares? The police raiding my birthday party? My friends getting drugged by wolfsbane? Nobody telling me what is going on?"

It looked like Peter attempted to look guilty about what he had put her through. Lydia did not buy it. Even if he felt a bit sorry, if he needed to, he would do it again. He was essentially kidnapping her. On top of all that, he seemed more amused than anything.

"You won't have to poison anyone, I hope you won't get more nightmares and maybe you'll even like the exorcism."

"Coming from you, I very much doubt that."

He laughed. "I hope you will. Don't worry, it'll come to you easily."

"And how far away are we?"

"A couple of hours."

"Hours? I am stuck in this car with you for hours?"

"You might recall, I am actually good company."

Lydia did remember. Before she had discovered what really was going on with him, that all of their interactions had happened in her head, she had indeed liked spending time with Peter. It was not necessarily something she wanted to dwell on. So she opted for looking out of her window, avoiding an answer.

Without warning, she felt his hand on her neck and him pulling her down. Lydia struggled against the pull, which was useless given his unnatural strength.

"Sheriff's car, you better stay down."

With that his hand went back to the steering wheel, leaving her cheek resting against his thigh. Lydia had to agree with keeping out of sight. It just seemed self-serving to pull her head in his lap. If she had not been so surprised and then found herself feeling uncannily flushed, she might have said something. Instead her mind skipped the protest to wonder what might happen if they were pulled over. It would be so embarrassing if that was Stiles' father.

It seemed to take forever and she eventually asked. "Is the car past us?"

"It passed a few minutes ago. Did forget to mention that?" Peter said with a smirk.

Lydia sat up immediately, glaring at him. Since his smile only broadened with her glares, she decided not to complain, especially, since most of her outrage came from her getting naughty ideas in that somewhat precarious position. That felt so wrong, not just given Peter having messed with her mind, she was sort of attached. She refused to acknowledge what she had with Aidan as more than a nice distraction. Somehow, it was a bit more than that. They might not be holding hands but she had hardly done that with Jackson either.

Despite vowing not to attach herself to just one guy on a permanent basis, she had not looked elsewhere. That gave way to the impression that she and Aidan were officially together, but they had never even discussed anything. It was not like she had much to complain about - except maybe a substantial lack of imagination in bed. Not that the sex was bad: if Jackson and Aidan were any indication, then werewolves in general had great stamina.

Looking toward the driver's seat she could not help but think that lack of imagination was somehow not Peter's problem. Not that she minded giving instructions to Aidan; it would just be nice if for a change she would not need to do that.

Maybe that was why she felt this unwelcome stir between her legs. Lydia tried to remind herself that if she was looking for more excitement in bed, that it should not be with the werewolf who tore two huge gashes into her side with his fangs.

"Interesting", Peter said.

Even though Lydia knew she should not ask, she felt compelled to. "What is?"

"That you also enjoyed that our little moment just now."

"What gave you that idea?"

Her voice betrayed her instantly; she might as well have said straight out that she did.

"Apart from your heart beating faster; there is also the fact that your blood went here .."

His voice trailed off as his hand touched her thigh, his fingers almost reaching between them. Lydia smacked them with her handbag and thankfully he removed his hand.

"I was just thinking about Aidan, how much I would have liked to spend the evening with him."

It was such a weak lie, especially since his totally inappropriate manoeuvre had only aroused her further. What was it with guys behaving inappropriately that she found so stimulating?

"You can't lie to me, especially not with your heartbeat quickening like that."

At that moment, Lydia hated it so much that Peter could see right through her. It was weird enough to realise that she still felt attracted to him, that he knew it only made it worse.

"When some sleazy guy gropes me," she shot back, "the only thing that my heart beating faster proves is that I am still alive."

"Sleazy? You know I got feelings, too."

While his playful tone was making it obvious that he was not serious, it somehow upset her. Given his past deeds, even if he had been hurt by the remark, it would only serve him right.

"If you want people to say nice things about you, maybe you should give them a reason to."

Peter shrugged. "Here I thought I had. I might have made a few mistakes in the past, but in my defence - I have been somewhat besides me. But ever since you brought me back, I have been very helpful. Gave nothing but good, honest advice to Derek."

"Except you tend to forget to mention along with your advice how it benefits you."

"Such harsh criticism. I wonder what you have been told about my efforts to help."

If Lydia was honest, she had to admit that she didn't know that much. Stiles had told her a few things, like the episode with the bank vault. But nothing very concrete, as he knew Peter was kind of a sore topic with and other events, Stiles had only mentioned after he had sent her to Derek, which was the first time she had become aware that Peter was actually still hanging around. Which had surprised her a great deal.

However, she recalled one thing from Stiles' recount of Peter's attempts at helping, that she could use to prove her point.

"I know you told Derek that he could use his healing powers to save Cora."

"You say that if was a bad thing," he pointed out.

"Not that part - but as a result Derek lost his alpha powers."

Peter smirked. "Now, that is definitely not a bad thing. You saw yourself what he accomplished as an alpha. He got his entire pack killed. Isaac does not count - he was clever enough to switch his allegiance to Scott."

She felt the car speeding up and saw that they had reached the highway. As the road was free, Peter turned to her. "I told Derek exactly what would happen if he healed Cora. It was not a decision I would have like to make but I did tell him about the consequences. Trust me, losing his alpha status was the least of it; It could have killed him. I even warned him that that losing his power was exactly what Jennifer or whatever-her-name-really-was wanted."

"You did?"

Somehow Lydia doubted he was lying, yet she suspected there was more to it. It was too easy to assume everything he said was a lie or half-truth. He was still able to get what he wanted. Which he had proven when he had dropped all pretence and made it very clear what would happen if she did not go through with it. In light of that, she should feel grateful that he was approaching it that way.

"What I have to say might not always be welcome - but I do give good advice."

He sounded noticeable offended but that might have been an act. She knew that he had helped out in the past year, Stiles had told her that much. He had seemed genuinely concerned about Derek's safety. He certainly was not completely evil otherwise he might have taken revenge on Derek when he had been knocked out and helpless. Given that he was forcing her again to help, it just was easier to assume the absolute worst.

"I still don't believe you are actually helping, Derek. You're always looking after your own interests. You don't care who gets hurt in the process."

"That's not actually true ..." Peter began only to be interrupted by her.

"I don't want to hear it."

With that she reached into her handbag, took out her phone that still showed no reception; it wasn't as if she expected it to change. Not wanting to listening to him, she got her headphones out of a side pocket in her Prada bag.

"Well, we can just not talk, if you prefer that," he offered, sounding genuinely disappointed.

"I do," Lydia replied, plugging in the headphones while cranking up the volume.

They spend almost an hour like that. Peter drove without saying anything while Lydia listened to one of her playlists. She could not help but look over when she felt he was not noticing. It irritated her that she was not as upset as she should be. That she kept thinking how he was exactly her type. Eventually, she just had to force herself to stare out of the window.

When he pulled over after some time, she felt a bit startled. Turning to him, she took the headphones out. "Are we there?"

"No, I just felt like getting something to drink. You want something as well?"

Reaching to the back-seat he returned with two bottles of some coloured energy drink, one blue and one red.

"No, thanks", she said and put her headphones back inside.

With a shrug, he put the red bottle into her cup holder and then drank a few sips out of the blue one. Afterwards, he put it into his cup holder and started the car again. As the drive went on and on, Lydia eventually pulled out her ear plugs again.

"How far is it?" she looked at her phone. "It's almost midnight."

"Hmm, maybe another hour," he turned to her. "I am kind of ruining another birthday for you. Sorry about that."

Lydia flinched: "I am surprised you even remembered."

Peter laughed. "It's my birthday, too." Then his face became serious again. "I know you probably hate me, I don't expect your forgiveness, but I did not want to stay dead."

"Derek killed you because you murdered his sister. You tried to kill Allison, my best friend. So .." she began, not wanting to actually mention that maybe he deserved it.

"Alright, I did kill my niece, I might have been a bit overly enthusiastic by going after Allison," he paused. "In case you you forgot, I was in a bad place: being burned and broken, slowly returning from a coma. All those things combined didn't exactly put me in a ... let's say agreeable mindset."

Lydia stared out of the window, not wanting to remember. As she could not avoid the memories, something else occurred to her. "Strange that you seem to do better, after being burned again, and killed."

Suddenly Peter turned the wheel and stopped the car on a non paved side road before stopping. His gaze was fixed upon the dark road ahead. "I spent six years trapped in my mind after having watched most of my family burn alive, feeling my broken body heal bit by bit. Knowing that the people responsible for that were still out there."

He turned to her and slowly reached out as if to touch her cheek, before taking a strain of her hair and brushing it gently back behind her ear.

"And after your friends set me on fire and Derek slashed my throat, there was nothing. At least until you woke up. Even then there was no pain and unlike before, I was not alone with my dark thoughts. I was connected to you. Let me say, your mind is not that bad a place to be."

It was creepy to be reminded that Peter had been there all the time, lurking in her subconscious. She remembered that she had felt someone, but of course, back then she had thought she was simply going out of her mind. At the same time, Lydia could not help but think about what it might have been like for Peter. Being in agony and trapped inside one's own mind seemed pretty horrible. That he had come around to being less homicidal by spooking around in her head was even flattering, but Lydia was not willing to excuse his behaviour that easily.

"Good to know that at least you had a great time on the expense of my sanity."

Recalling these feelings of utter devastation when she thought she was losing her mind was a like a shield against his excuses. Lydia knew she was forgiving bad behaviour way too fast. Allison had often lamented how quickly she forgave Jackson, even before the werewolf/kanima chaos came over them. She knew all too well how that had turned out: she got dumped again, with Jackson not even bothering to sent her an e-mail or text. Not that she wanted to ever again wanted to hear anything from him. Well, maybe if he came crawling back.

Peter did not say anything to her last comment, maybe realising that she was not willing to listen. Instead he drove on and mentioned that he had secured Derek at a cabin in the woods.

'Wonderful,' she thought, 'where no one can hear me scream.'

Which was not that different from being back in her room; neither her parents nor the neighbours seemed to have ever heard her nightmare induced screams. That or they had ignored them. Her parents could be very good at overlooking things. For once that might work out to her advantage. If she was not back for her birthday, they might not even notice.

After all, they would leave around eight in the morning for some event up-state. They might not even think about looking in on her. They always made it a point that dates did not matter and had given her birthday presents days before or after her actual birthday. Not that she was bitter about that, the fact that her parents were leaving her alone for a few days, meant they had finally calmed down. The last thing Lydia needed was for them to get upset again.

* * *

A/N: Don't be shy and let me know what you think. I have tons of fun writing this, hope you don't have to wait too long for the next chapter. But it still needs editing.


	2. Cabin in the Woods

A/N: Thanks to raktajinos for betaing this for me, as well as Emeralddawn and calrissian18 for continued support and encouragement.

Warnings: Contains dub-con and some non-con by definition near the end, as well as a bit of werewolf kinkery.

* * *

Lydia decided to have something to drink after all. In those hours she had gotten pretty thirsty and thinking they still needed to drive back it seemed necessary. Even though the energy drink did not look very inviting. Much to her annoyance the lid was really tightly screwed on.

"Need help?" Peter asked.

Then she managed to loosen it. "No, thanks I am doing fine."

Taking a sip, Lydia found that the red liquid was tasting surprisingly well. Good enough to empty it half way. Her birthday was not on full moon but it was shining bright enough to

"Honestly, that stuff is pretty good," he said. "Even if it does not look that way."

"Running on energy drinks?" Lydia commented as she looked back and saw two more bottles on the back seat.

"A bit of extra energy can't hurt - you might find you can use a bit of that."

"For the exorcism?"

Lydia did not like that smile on his face. It had this foreshadowing of bad things that were about to happen; it made him look devilishly handsome.

"It is going to be a bit exhausting. But I suppose you can sleep of most of it on the ride back."

"I am so thrilled," she replied. "Seriously, what am I supposed to do - exactly."

"We'll be there in about 30 minutes - it will be so much easier to explain on location."

Lydia could not help but think, that whatever it was, it was probably unpleasant. Why not talk her through it before hand? While she and Derek had not exactly been close or even on good terms, she certainly would not shy away from using whatever powers she had if it meant that it could safe his life. Unless, it was not at all about saving Derek's life.

"It seems kind of odd that you started caring about Derek, after he killed you."

That made him laugh briefly. "I always cared. Did Stiles never tell you why I lured you to the football field?"

A cold shiver ran over her back as her memories flashed back to that scene. Oddly enough, she had no idea. After the attack everyone had basically ignored her, while she was feeling as if she was losing her mind, the whole werewolf angle had not even been conscious on her mind. Later, after she was finally in the loop, it never really had come up. Part of her had always assumed it had just been about his back up plan. But in that case, why had Stiles been there? He had not been the one that had called the ambulance.

"No," she stated bitterly.

"Allison's crazy aunt, you know the one who burned me and my family alive, had taken Derek. I knew if one person would figure out how to find him: it would be Stiles. He just needed some extra motivation. To think, none of this would have ever happened to you, if Stiles had just used his knowledge to get to Derek. Although I suppose, in that case I would still be dead ..." he looked over to her. "Either way - you can hardly say I just started caring about my nephew."

"Are you honestly trying to tell me, that Stiles would just stand by knowing that Derek was in serious danger?" she argued.

That could not be the truth. Maybe part of it but Lydia realised that she was missing way too many aspects of the story. So far it had not seemed important, she had been too busy wondering what was going on with her. Now, it felt like maybe she should care more about what else had been happening around her. After all, she was kind of part of this whole supernatural world - if she liked it or not.

"Stiles used to really dislike Derek - I think he wanted him dead - but why don't you ask him about it?"

Lydia refused to believe that but she knew she would ask. Once she got back, she needed to find out more. For the simple reason that if Peter knew about banshees, then she needed to know more about him. At least if she had any hopes of figuring out how much of what he told her was a lie or half-truth. In fact, she got the feeling, he was as truthful as possible and just left out details or misrepresented him as it suited his agenda. Whatever that might be.

"Please, Stiles does not want anyone dead."

"Are you sure?" Peter joked. "He wants me dead - then again, I suppose that is different, I guess you prefer me dead as well."

While she was sure, that he did not really expect an answer to that. She had one nonetheless. "No, I don't want you dead."

He gave her an almost surprised look, which she used to smile at him. "Because I don't want you spooking around in my head again."

Looking back at the road, he chuckled. "You are a smart girl. I suppose, that might indeed happen."

Lydia felt her smile drop. She had worried about it, now that he confirmed it, she wished she had kept her mouth shut. Strangely enough as she stared at his profile, watching how he turned just slightly every now and then to look at her, she kept thinking about something else: that she did find him attractive. That he looked particularly dashing since he had dropped the black leather coat routine. Which was strange, cause she liked men in black leather.

"Is the heat on?"

That was something else, she was feeling kind of warm. Not uncomfortably but noticeably warmer than before, almost like earlier, when he had made her duck out of sight. 'Don't think about that Lydia,' she told herself.

"Why? Are you cold?" Peter asked.

His voice seemed concerned but Lydia also heard an undertone. When his hand reached out to touch her, she thought it was because he had alternative ideas about warming her up. Only they were her ideas, remembering how warm his real self actually felt. So far from the creepy vision he had went he was basically haunting her bedroom.

Shaking her head, she replied: "No, I'm actually feeling warm."

She brushed his hand aside and instead had another sip from the bottle.

"You know, it's kind of funny, when I mentioned that I wanted to hang out with my friends, my parents said I should stay home because of the curfew. Everyone thought, it might be best, if I do." Then she laughed. "I would been so much safer looking for dead bodies."

There was this knowing look that passed between them. It should have terrified her but instead Lydia realised that she felt more excited. A hint of danger, maybe more than a hint, that left her feeling even more flushed. Then, Peter turned back to pay attention to the road which actually began to clear a bit. The dark veil of trees on either side, began to lighten as they reached a clearing.

There was big space in front of a simple but well-kept cabin. There was even a pile of firewood neatly stacked in front of it. It was the kind of location you used in horror films they used to make it less obvious that a crazy axe murderer was going to show up. An axe that was not sticking in the stump in front of the house. 'Well, don't be silly, Lydia - an axe murder is not going to be your problem. - You came with the crazy psychopath.'

Lydia found herself looking again at Peter who parked directly in front of the door.

"Show time."

Shrugging, she opened the door and stepped out of the car. The air felt chilly against her flushed cheeks. Then she heard a loud growl, that made goosebumps appear on her arms.

"Looks like he knows we are here."

Reluctantly, Lydia followed Peter to the door, which was actually pretty well secured. There were two heavy metal bolts securing the door, apart from the actual lock. It took a moment to unlock, enough time to become aware of sound that she immediately identified as the rattling of chains. After Peter had opened the door, he signalled her to enter the cabin and taking a deep breath, she walked into the dark room in front of her.

As the shutters in front of the windows were all closed none of that moonlight was getting in. Somewhat close in the pitch black of the cabin, someone struggled against chains holding him. The growls she heard were not as loud but they did not sound like Derek at all. She had heard the other werewolves make humanly impossible sounds but the continued rhythm had more in common with a captured animal.

Behind her Peter closed and locked the door again. She turned back to the door but of course could not see anything.

"I'm turning on the light, might want to close your eyes for a moment," he warned her.

Then she heard him make two steps and the light went on. It was not particularly bright but she was happy that she had followed the advice. The furniture in the main room was not too shabby but nothing to brag about either. There was a nice fireplace which was not in use and then tons of trophies mounted at the wall. Lydia realised that is was a hunting cabin. Given the design, the gun cabinet and the general vibe of the place, she knew it did not belong to a werewolf at all.

"Shall we go and see Derek?"

He extended an arm pointing at one of the three doors. Not wanting to show that she was afraid of the state she might find Derek in, headed with a steady pace towards the door. Peter was directly behind her and reached for the door knob with one hand, while his other arm went around her waist. As the door swung open, she immediately wanted to take a step back. Instead her back pressed against Peter, who prevented her from bolting.

"I assure you, he is not able to hurt you. Those chains are quite efficient."

Making her step into the room, Lydia had to say, that she did not mind him being so close to her at all. He had switched the light on, allowing her an even better look at what she had previously seen in what little light had fallen in from the main room.

There was a completely naked werewolf tied to the bed, not like any she had ever seen. It did not even look like Peter had shown himself, when he had revealed to her, what the others had been keeping from her. He had changed so much that it had been impossible to tell, it had been him. Derek had transformed about as much, just differently. He looked wolfish but his face was more human than wolf.

She turned her head and looked up at Peter. "That is not Derek."

"The possession has brought out a whole new side of him."

Lydia looked back, her instincts told her that something was not right. Derek's skin had completely changed tone, it was an ash-like black. His body was covered by black fur, which she supposed was the least awkward thing. He struggled against the chains, that had him spread out on the bed. The restraints around his wrists and ankles looked heavy enough to keep a human down on their own. Thick chains were secured on the floor in two bolted in metal hooks. He could barely move and second long chain was around his wrists and the bed. The third one was even weirder as it pressed his head back, making it harder for him to open his mouth. At least he would not be able to bite anyone coming closer.

"What do you expect me to do about this?"

"I will tell you."

Lydia felt him slipping down her handbag and putting it on a chair in the corner. Apart from that he pretty much held her closer than she would have normally liked. Right now, she felt strangely comfortable, feeling his arm around her waist and his strong chest against her back. When his other hand stroked over her cheek down her neck, she kept thinking that it was a real shame that the bed was currently occupied.

A wildly inappropriate thought given the situation. Lydia was aware that even for her, this was a little bit wilder and more random than usual. So far she had at least not been that terribly attracted to Peter. Apart from that brief moment after the sheriff's car had passed them, she had not exactly been fond of remembering how he had made her feel before the unpleasant revelation. In the past hour, a lot less innocent ideas popped unasked into her head.

"You - you've drugged me."

Suddenly, it all made sense. That was why she was feeling so warm and horny.

"I did, see there is a very effective and simple way, you can drew the demon out of him."

Peter spoke with a calm but focused voice. Lydia knew she should be furious, step on his toes or something but as his hand went down from her neck and ran over her breast, she was just letting out a small moan. He pressed his head against hers whispering in her ear as he bent it slightly to the side.

"When he reaches an orgasm through you, your powers will draw the demon out. Then all you got to do is letting out one of your special screams and the demon will be gone."

"Oh - that is all?"

Somehow her tone sounded less sarcastic than she had intended. With Peter's stubbly chin pressing against her neck and his fingers opening the buttons that held her dress together it was hard to focus.

"It's either this or I will have to kill him. After all, we can't let him run around like this, can we?"

"You don't honestly, expect me to ..."

Her voice failed her as she felt his lips on her neck, kissing and sucking in a way only heightened her arousal. Another series of moans escaped her, especially as a warm hand slipped into her half-way unbuttoned dress.

"I believe, we have already established," he told her while running his hand over the scars he had left on her side as he continued. "That I do not take no for an answer. Not with what is at stake."

There was something about this that felt wrong: This was apart from her mind being way more curious about the idea of having sex with Derek in his current form than being appalled by it. It was not even the fact that Peter's last comment should have her freaked out. Getting out of this would have been futile. Still, trying to would have been somewhat normal instead of wondering why he was feeling her up.

"If I am supposed to ...," she pointed at the bed. Then a moan escaped her and she laid her head back, "why is your hand in my panties?"

Lydia moaned as she got the answer to the question she had briefly pondered earlier during her abduction. Peter indeed knew his way around a woman's body. His fingers found exactly the right spots and the other hand had been gone from her waist and found their way under her bra.

"Ah, because he is not exactly up for foreplay and trust me, you are going to need it."

Even though she was not sure what he meant by this, as she was already pretty wet considering Peter had barely touched her. Her bra was rather uselessly sitting on top of her breasts now supported by Peter's arm with the right one more by his hand as he was running his thumb over her nipple.

"You are a horrible person ..:" she moaned.

"Doesn't that make me exactly your type?"

With that comment he slipped two fingers inside her, while his thumb continued their work stimulating her. At the same time, he stopped playing with her breast and instead pulled down the dress from her shoulders. She felt it slip from her arms, then her hips and then how it landed on the floor. At this point she felt almost like being set on auto-pilot. Maybe that was why Peter allowed her to pull his arms out of his embrace. Lydia used the new found freedom of movement to get rid of her bra by just pulling it off without even unclasping it.

"As I said earlier, I really hope you are going to like the exorcism, there is no reason why you should not."

Lydia leaned back more looking up at Peter with her head resting against his shoulder. Deep down she knew at this moment, she rather would rather forget about the whole exorcism and peel Peter out of his clothes as well. A louder snarl than usual made her look back to the actual person she was supposed to have sex with. Somewhat doubtful she kept looking back Peter.

"Don't worry, I said I would guide you through it step by step."

Those last words he said very slowly leaning closer to her and then he kissed her. Maybe it was the drug but this time the kiss felt even better than the one that happened in her head. When he finally gave her lips free, it took her whatever self-restraint she had not to tell him that she wanted to feel more than his fingers inside her. It occurred to Lydia, that if she had a type, it was definitely slightly lunatic werewolves.

While she felt reluctant to go through with this, she was also somewhat incapable of letting go of Peter. Her arms were resting on his and she still leant against him. They slowly advanced closer to the bed and she was so close to coming but just then he stopped. Finally pulling her panties off. Lydia realised she had stepped out of her shoes, when she he had left her dress behind.

Peter lifted her up and placed her on the bed directly between the spread legs. She immediately missed the body surrounding her with so much warmth. Almost as if Peter knew, she felt both of his hands on her back: running gently up and down. "No need to be shy - we both know how much you like using your lips."

Even though he was not exactly wrong on that, usually when she went down on her dates, they were somewhat aesthetically pleasing. Lydia was not the biggest fan of hair, even though in this case it was more fur and the important parts were quite normal looking. Except the part that was usually pubic hair looked somewhat soft and furry.

"You can do it," Peter encouraged her.

"Yeah, why don't you do it?" she asked back.

Lydia heard him laugh for a moment, then felt one of his hands trailing over her butt. "I have the feeling, he'd be somewhat less than thrilled if he found out my involvement included getting him hard. Wouldn't you agree?"

Feeling warm fingers once more moving in and out of her, Lydia was not really equipped with any arguments that spoke against this. Besides all of Peter's attentions did only help to increase her arousal so far and she had the feeling, she was not getting what she needed until she complied. Sighing she leaned forward, put her hands next to fur covered hips. As her lips touched the flaccid dick, the whole body jerked. It was like it instinctively tried to get away.

"Ah, that's the demon, he knows you are a danger to it."

Even though she was more focused on the fingers that now pounded into her faster and deeper, Lydia was still aware that the other hand was applying enough pressure to her back that she could not get back up. Only at this point she really did not care anymore. As little as the demon might care for what she was doing, the body it inhabited, was reacting to her touch.

Warm blood was pulsing through the somewhat cool member; concentrating as she used her tongue and lips on it. Lydia could not help admire, the thick, hard erection that came to life. For a moment she just looked at it before the idea of impaling herself on it, just would not go out of her mind. With the pressure on her back gone, she moved.

Peter let her, she still felt that he was close by but did not interfered as she climbed on top of the chained up werewolf. Seeing the almost mad glowing red eyes, as she straddled him, gave her pause. Peter assured her that he could not harm her. Not that she had been thinking about stopping. She was more focused on feeling her legs pressing against strong thighs, that were almost twice as thick as her own. Between her spread legs the hard dick looked so inviting.

Without further hesitation, she wrapped one hand around it as far she could. Using it to guide the erection against her wet entrance, as she slowly lowered herself. She moaned loudly as the head pushed inside her and the body rocked up, moving it a bit faster than she had prepared herself for. Then he lay still and she closed her eyes focusing on the incredible feeling of it filling her inch by inch. Even before she sat herself down, she felt Peter's arms wrapping themselves around her. His chest, this time bare pressed against her back.

Even though it was not how Lydia had pictured her first threesome, she was completely lost in the amount of stimulation. It was like a perfect union, she rocked herself up and down, brushing against Peter whose hands were not idle either. He supported her movements and kept rubbing against her most sensitive spot. She felt the werewolf under her beginning to growl reluctantly.

Lydia felt she was close to coming, this time Peter did not stop to hold her back. Instead, as she stopped her rhythm, while her body trembled from climaxing, he continued to move her. She felt herself clench around the hard dick as it was moved in and out of her. It was not an especially fast tempo that Peter forced on them but she had barely come down, she felt it pushing her back over the edge.

For a moment there was nothing but intense pleasure rushing through her. Peter finally had stopped moving her and instead just held her allowing her to lean against him. Lydia felt herself panting rapidly with sweat pouring down her. Inside her she felt something stirring. At first she thought, the contractions had also caused the possessed werewolf to finally come. It was not an orgasm building up, it was like the dick was growing. The base suddenly became bigger stretching her. Lydia tried to move up, only Peter held her down.

His grip on her was unyielding. His right arm pressing around her waist his own body suddenly pressing even tighter against hers. The other hand taking a light but very telling grip on her throat. Bending her neck to the side, he proceeded to kiss it and told her in between them to relax. Which was easy to say for him, but she did try to steady her breathing.

"You are truly magnificent," he told her.

He did not need to hold her down for long, after a brief moment, the dick inside her had been swelling so much, that she was afraid it might tear her apart if she tried to get off it. The transformed werewolf under her was growling dangerously loud as it began rutting against her. Whatever had caused it to resist was now gone and Lydia felt it now seeking release. Each tiny thrust was pressing the knot against a still vulnerable area that had not been slowly stretched around it.

"It hurts," she meekly said not even wanting to admit it.

Kissing her once more, letting his hand wander from her neck over her body, he told her to just go with it. She really tried to, because she was still turned on. It was like the pain was only edging her own further once she gotten used to the feeling. When she felt Peter's hand move between her legs once more, she just moaned and shivered, wondering what it felt like coming being stretched beyond her wildest imagination.

"We are almost there," he said with tone that even in her state frightened her.

Even more as, his wandering hand made its way to her butt and she felt his fingers pressing between her cheeks. The protest was already on her lips as he forced her third orgasm out of her. As she felt herself clenching against the huge knot, a yell came from her lips. A sound somewhat between pleasure and pain. Just as she could not decide if that pulsing feeling in her vagina around the knot was pleasant or unpleasant. It was definitely way too intense to think clearly.

Seconds afterwards, the pulsing became more intense. Lydia only realised what it meant as felt the warm cum shooting against her cervix. It was not like anything she had felt before, then again she never had been so completely filled by a partner as they had come. Lydia almost felt if that was not everything, in her hazy mind it was almost like something else poured inside her. Like an energy that sparked from cell to cell throughout her body.

"Yes, can you feel it," Peter suddenly murmured against her ear.

Even though she felt two wet fingers forcing their way into her sphincter, she knew that he did mean the energy that flowed into her body. It became more intense, while it was not exactly painful or pleasurable, it made her feel incredibly strong. Not in the physical sense, it was like her body was suddenly in less pain overall. Lydia welcomed it, since she was not only still filled by the super extended dick. Peter was now going at her other opening with two more fingers. It was not hurting at all.

Still, without that energy giving her the feeling she was ready about anything, she might have panicked as she felt Peter's erection pressing against her. Considering he poured a warm lubricant where his fingers moved into her, she knew this was happening and she found herself moaning in excitement. Even the fact that the werewolf under her was making the strangest snarling sounds, did not disturb her. Feeling the fingers prepare her, slick with whatever he had used, only made her feel impatient.

When he finally withdrew them, Lydia was completely relaxed and let out a soft growl of her own. The tip of his dick pressed against her entrance and then pushed inside with almost no resistance. But where his fingers had been able to fit easily, the much thicker erection was stopped by the bulge from the knot still stuck inside her. It pressed from inside her vagina against the wall of the anus and it felt like it was impossible to fit in more than the tip.

Peter had other ideas and bend her a bit backwards, before he rocked his hips forward. Making her scream as sudden pain shot through her body. Even as that ebbed away, she was overwhelmed by the sensation. Unable to do anything else but adjust to the rhythm that was forced onto her. Her eyes closed, she bore Peter thrusting into her. He never pulled out far enough to have to push past the tight point. Soon enough, the constant friction was getting her close to another peak.

Despite it, Lydia was sensing that something was wrong. At first she thought it was just Peter groaning as he was reaching the brink of his own orgasm. Only the groans began to sound more inhuman. Touching his arm she realised that he was also turning. It was almost like someone threw ice-cold water in her face, only there was no holding her back. Her own climax hit her hard and fast.

This time she felt how sore her insides were, as they involuntarily clenched around the two dicks inside of her. She was loudly yelling and groaning, as her brain was no longer able to tell what exactly she was feeling. Lydia did feel something else: Peter did stop his movements. Not to give her a break, he was howling somewhat triumphantly as he came inside her. Just like before, she felt this pressure as the shape of dick changed.

Instinct alone made her try to get away but it was useless. Claws pressed against her hips holding her in place. As her mind slowly realised what was actually happening, her head got clearer. The strain against her sore and stretched vagina got even worse as her back entrance was stretched as well and pressed against the small barrier.

Her pleas to stop and let her go, were not headed. Her only answer was a low growl and Peter rocking against her. Lydia felt tears beginning to stream down her face as the pain got even more intense. The worst part was that despite that strength that she felt inside her, it felt like she was torn apart. The noises that came from the two werewolves made it even more unreal, now that whatever haze had clouded her mind was gone. Yet, the horror came from sensing that she was coming again.

Unable to cope with that much pain, pleasure and the sheer madness of the situation, she screamed. The sound that came out of her throat was not that of a mortal girl, it was that of the banshee. The last thing she heard before she blacked out, were both of the werewolves howling in pain.

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A/N: Hope that was not too intense, the next chapters will be more teen rated again.


	3. Aftercare

Weregrrrl13 You are definitely onto something ;)

bugmama90 Hope the wait was not too long, I update as fast as I get the chapters beta-read.

BTW, thanks to raktajinos for beta-reading this chapter for me, as well as emeraldawn and calrissian18 for their continued encouragement.

* * *

When Lydia woke up, she was lying on a bed. It was still dark or dark again, she could not tell which it was, as she had no idea how long she had been unconscious. The light was turned off but she saw that faint city lights outside the windows. Maybe they were back in Beacon Hills, even though not in her room. At any rate, any joy about being back in civilization was overshadowed by being in pain. When she moved, a sharp jolt seem to run from her butt through her spine.

She winced and decided to remain still for a while longer. Lydia had never felt so sore but most of all she was worried about injuries. Peter might have drugged her but it had not been the type of drugs that spared her the memories of what had happened. A shiver ran down her spine, when some details flashed back to her. Lydia drew the blanket around her a bit closer.

Then she realised that she was back in her dress although her underwear was missing. Did that mean that Peter had dressed her or had someone else done it? She doubted anyone had come after her but soon her question was answered as she felt hand stroking over her the side of her face.

"I can tell you are awake," Peter informed her.

Lydia did not want to say anything. She felt her throat tighten and her eyes tearing up. A small sob escaped her as she felt him lying down beside her. Crawling under her cover. She felt the rough fabric of the jeans he wore brushing against her leg. That was hardly making the closeness less worse.

"You always come through for me," he said and wrapped his arm around her. "I wish there had been a less harmful way to accomplish what we did."

His hand stroked over her belly before he slowly undid a button from her dress and slipped it inside.

"I know it must hurt."

Closing her eyes, she felt a few tears running down her cheeks which were then swept away by warm fingers.

"Don't worry, I am going to take of you."

Unable to move, being too terrified, Lydia did not move her head away from the kiss he placed on her cheek. As his lips touched her skin, she also felt a warm wave going through her body. Right from where his hand was on her stomach. Then the pain she had felt was not all that bad anymore and few moments later, all that was left was a bit of soreness.

"See that was not so bad, was it?"

Shaking her head, not even sure if she wanted it to mean "No, you are wrong" or "Yes, it was not that bad". All she knew was that she was not getting away from him, unless he let her go or by some random chance someone dropped in. The latter seemed rather unlikely occurrence. Especially, since she was not even sure where they were. It definitely was not a run down place, from what she could see in the semi-dark and by the feel of the bed, this was pretty high standard.

"What am I still doing here? Where is here?"

Even though her voice was a bit shaky, she was proud that she managed to say something at all. Peter was still caressing her stomach, his face was so close to her neck that she felt his breath on it.

"We are back in back in Beacon Hills and here is my apartment. - As I said, I am taking care of you. In fact, I have drawn a hot bath for you." He stopped, then added almost as an afterthought: "And Happy Birthday."

Lydia swallowed hard. "What time is it?"

"Oh, still a couple of hours left," he sighed. "I am afraid, I must confess I sent a few messages from your phone to your friends, telling them that you went away with your parents, who did not want a repeat of that disaster during your last party."

"So absolutely no one is missing me."

"Yes," he said and she could almost hear him smile. "Don't worry, I have you home before nine."

Lydia turned her head a bit. "Really?"

"Of course," he brushed a strain of her hair out of her face. "You don't still think I am going to kill you. - Because that is the last thing on my mind. Not just because you are so helpful."

His hand moved further up her body and when she felt he might actually reach for her breast, Lydia somehow managed to move her arm. Putting her hand on top of his, the dress fabric separating them, she stopped it. At least he took it as a signal to stop. Not that he had shown the same restrain a few hours before. Looking back Lydia was well aware that whatever happened, had not been an exorcism for Derek. She had felt something taking her over but that might have been the drug. While she doubted it had even been Derek, Lydia knew she had to find out more. If she wanted to make sense of what had happened.

"How is Derek?" she simply said causing Peter to laugh for a moment.

"He is fine, somehow he did not feel compelled to stick around. I am sure, in time he will thank you properly."

She did want to point out that Derek might have the dignity to be too embarrassed to face her after what had happened, unlike a certain someone who could not get his grabby paws of her. Only she knew that it could not have been Derek. He would be insanely angry with Peter for doing what he had done. Lydia said nothing, not wanting to hear what Peter would say to it. Not wanting Peter to hear her react to his comments.

There was also this feeling around him, that always made her reluctant to say anything in the first place. Like even when she had not know it was him, she had felt sort of threatened by him appearing in her backyard. Maybe her instincts had been right, that she really needed to call someone for help - even if the police were utterly useless. Especially in this situation, it was hard to ignore that she did not just feel threatened - but also aroused by him. Maybe that has been part of the reason she had always felt threatened.

Fantasizing and going after pretty boys had always been her thing, but she had always been in charge. If she wanted to, she could push those thoughts aside and go on with whatever else she wanted to. With him that was different. It was kind of difficult to breathe or stop her reacting to his presence.

The absolute worst part of it of course being the fact that he had to know. Lying that close to her, he must sense pretty well how she was reacting to his touch. Obviously, he should also be aware of how tense she was but so far that had never stopped him. The last thing she did want to get into was a discussion about what she wanted more, him close to her or him getting the hell away from her.

Even without saying anything, Peter slipped out of the bed, giving her some room. After a moment, Lydia turned and looked at him. Her cheeks were still smeared with tears and make-up. Even the waterproof stuff could only stand that much. She did not care, Lydia wanted to know if she could bear looking at him without falling apart, like she had done so often in her dreams.

Much to her surprise he was not looking at her. Peter actually avoided her gaze almost like when she had met him again back at Derek's place. He leaned to the night stand and slowly dialled up the light on the lamp there. When he turned back to her, he handed her cloth tissue. Lydia sniffed and then cleared away the tears along with the black and skin coloured smudges under them. She blew her nose.

"Now, what?"

"Now, you take a hot bath."

Obviously, he was not interested in making any snide remarks about her appearance. She was not really surprised, apart from calling her a narcissist, Peter had never said anything bad about her. With some hesitation, she threw back the cover and swung her legs over the edge. A sudden move that sent a noticeable pang through her lower body.

"Uh", she protested.

"You know, I could carry you."

Lydia suppressed a moan as she sat on the corner of the bed. The pain was not that bad but she had yet to stand up from the low bed and walk to where ever the bathroom was. She could do it, it might be uncomfortable but she was sure she could make it there. After all she had survived the gashes in her side. But Lydia was not really that keen on proving how tough she could be. She did not want to risk that it was actually so bad that Peter would watch her wince with ever step.

"You should - you know."

Her voice sounded somewhat stronger and more accusing. It might come from the fact that despite his earlier intrusive behaviour that when being faced with her, he actually seemed remorseful. Then he leaned down to pick her up: his lips coming unnecessarily close to hers. 'So much for remorse', she thought as she almost automatically wrapped one arm around his neck.

"Where is my underwear?"

While she was at it, she might as well ask the important question. Even though other things were probably more important than her underwear. What she really wanted to know, was something she could not bring herself to ask. Like if he actually thought taking away a bit of her pain and giving her a hot bath would excuse what he had done.

Lydia did not want to think about that at all. Not about what kind of magic he had actually used her for this time, certainly not the fact that he had drugged and essentially raped her. Even worse, the shape he had used to do it. That thought made her skin crawl even more in light of how thinking about everything that had happened up to that point still caused her to feel aroused.

It was better not to think about that at all, she had wasted enough time in Ms Morrell's office. She did not want anymore counselling sessions. Nobody to tell her that she was messed up. Apart from the nightmares, she had gotten through everything remarkably well on her own.

When Peter opened the door to the bedroom and carried her into the room behind it, she saw that the place was not exactly small. The only reason it had seemed that way is because it had been a guest bedroom. The second probably leading to a bath without a tub. It was a nice place, the living room was big. Not as big as the one at Derek's place if one could call that a living room. There was an area with couches and a TV, an open kitchen with a bar and a corner with small dinner table. In the middle there was open space and, she saw five more doors. The light was dim and she could not make out many details but it all seemed quite elegant.

When they reached a door, she saw the faint light coming from the keyhole. As this seemed to be the intended goal, she opened the door and immediately felt the slight steam rising from the room. It was a surprisingly nice looking bath. Another door lead to what she assumed to be the actual bedroom.

Some part of her began wondering how he was able to afford all that, considering the house fire, coma and death thing. Lydia certainly wasn't going to give him the satisfaction about saying something nice about the place. She was anyway wondering why he had brought her here. If he drove her home, she could find her way back here and that should concern him.

He walked her over to rather large tub, which easily was able to fit two people. The ceramic was a pleasant sky blue tone instead of a blinding white, so often used. The shower was spacey as well, from what she could see behind the frosted panels. The tiles were the really impressive part though. They fit the colour scheme but some of them had a very subtle wave scheme on them. It all came together over the wall on the tub, where several rows and columns of tiles formed the image of a woman whose dress and the waves seemed to become one.

"The apartment belonged to a good friend of mine, technically it is still hers."

Lydia looked at him, upset as it felt he read her mind again. Even though, she had been gaping at the motive, which might have invited her thinking about how the hell he had something like that in his bathroom.

"Well, she has better taste in interior design then friends."

He pouted a little, before replying. "I wish I could argue with that."

"What happened to her?"

It was almost as if she knew that something had happened to her. Like she could tell from the tone of his voice. Instead of an answer he let her down on the blue rug, steadying her for a moment until she stood on her own. He looked at her as if was waiting for something. Which was of course for her to get into the tub. Just out of nowhere Lydia found herself slapping him.

The smack sounded a lot louder in the tiled room, than she had anticipated and part of her wondered how he would react.

"I guess, I deserved that."

"Yes, you did."

With that she felt like slapping him again, then maybe some more. Only as she lunged, he caught her arm. A firm grip on her waist, he pulled her closer.

"Don't start something, you don't want to see through."

"If you think, I am going to undress, with you in here ...", she broke off.

Peter looked at her challenging and she put her hands on her wrists and stared back. She was not sure what she was trying to accomplish. After all, if he wanted to he could easily tear off her dress: no werewolf powers were necessary for that trick. Somehow she doubted that he let her win in a power play. It was almost like she was daring him, too.

"I have seen you naked before." Peter sighed: "Oh well, compromise, I turn around - if you slip, I can still catch you."

Then he actually did turn crossing his arms and waiting, probably listening as well. Lydia was surprised, this was not something she had expected. Was it truly a compromise or would he turn at the right moment?

"Why would I slip?"

"I drugged you, I might have injured you - making the exercise quite possibly rather unpleasant ..." Peter remarked.

"Now, you are all concerned? Or are just acting concerned, so that I won't tell my boyfriend that you ..."

Lydia stopped, still unable to call what happened by its proper name. "Well, sort of boyfriend - at any rate - we both now who'd win in that fight."

Peter scoffed amused. As if that thought did not bother him at all, but he kept his back turned to her. "Yes, I know who would win that fight. But that's not the reason, I am concerned, Lydia."

"Forgive me, if I don't believe that."

He nodded. "Of course, I do - if you get in the tub. It will help."

There was something about the way, he said it. That made it almost impossible to keep her anger up. Looking at the hot water, she had begun unbuttoning her dress. He was sort of right, the hot water could not hurt. With no peeking, she actually made her way into the tub. The hot water actually felt wonderful. Using her legs and getting into it, was not even that painful. Must have something to do with what Peter had done earlier to her.

"I'll will get you some towels and something to wear."

With those words Peter left her alone to soak in peace. Lydia looked around the room, realising that suddenly there was really nothing left to distract her from what had happened to her last night. Somehow going back to it, was not making her feel as she should. Looking at the dress that Peter had so slowly unbuttoned, did not make her feel violated - it made nipples stiffen, even in the pleasantly hot water. It made her feel bad, like there was something wrong with her.

At least she still felt positively crept out when she remembered how it all had ended. Something was definitely wrong with her, she kept thinking. Then Peter came back into the bathroom. Carrying two white towels, with a package from Macy's and a long blue dress. Lydia could not help but blush wondering if he was able to see anything given she was in hot water.

"Towels, and something to wear," he said. Then he walked past her and put the towels down before hanging the dress on a hook and then laid the package down on a shelf. "You know, there really is no reason for you to blush."

"Who is blushing?" she snipped back. "It's the hot water."

Kneeling down by her side, he said almost softly. "The way your body re-acts to me. It's not like you have any control over it. I meant what I said, I was hoping you might enjoy it. I know you did - to a point."

"Yeah, that's right," Lydia found herself saying before she realised how that must sound.

That was the dreadful part, Peter would always be able to point out that she had not only been totally into it, that she was still reacting to it, just thinking about it.

"As I said before, you are strong. You pulled through that last ordeal, remarkably well. Much better than I had anticipated. Except of course, for the part, where my bite brought out the banshee in you."

Lydia was glad that he did not make any remarks about her slip of the tongue. He seemed appreciative about her ability to cope with everything that he had put her through. That she had not gone crazy or was a complete mess, was for her to be proud of. It was not some badge of merit Peter had any right to pin on her. But instead of calling him on it, Lydia found herself wondering about something else.

"Brought out? Are you trying to tell me, I would have become a banshee anyway?"

"Actually, no, you may never have found about it. But it had to be there. An Alpha can only turn people into werewolves."

Somehow that made sense. The fact was there were almost no information available on banshees that seemed to fit her. Even though she was rather suspicious about whatever might have actually happened last night, apart from the obvious, Peter definitely knew something.

"How come you know about banshees?"

"I could tell you that, if ..."

His hand touched her hair and stroked it down to her neck where his fingers moved through it until she felt his finger tips on her skin.

".. if what?"

"I can wash your hair?" Peter's voice sounded alarmingly innocent.

Lydia looked at him. "What? Are you serious?"

"Absolutely, you got such beautiful hair."

"Whatever,"she sighed.

If there was one thing she liked it was compliments. Not that she should care about what Peter thought about her. This and curiosity got her to focus on the fact that it was just hair washing. So she just dove under the hot water. Letting her hair soak, washing away the tears and her smeared make-up. When she could not hold her breath any longer, she rose back up.

"You look even prettier without make-up, did I ever tell you that?"

"No, I don't recall that."

Peter did not waste much time, he had already reached for the shampoo and poured some of it into his hand. Then she heard how he spread the substance between his palms. She had a coiffeur do this a hundred times and yet now it felt strange. His fingers moved with a firm touch massaging the shampoo into her hair. But he did it slower, in a way that was more sensual than anything else.

Letting out a sigh, she remembered that they had a bargain. "So, how do you know about banshees?"

"It's a bit of a longer story, but to start it off - you know about Deaton and what he does for Scott and Derek?"

"Yeah, he is sort an adviser for alphas and a druid, the non-murderous kind."

"Yes, that is true," Peter continued. "Druids know an awful lot that they dislike sharing, out of fear that someone misuses that knowledge."

"Someone like you?"

Lydia asked, immediately thinking about that little moonlight ritual or Peter somehow knowing that she was immune. Somehow she was not sure if spooking around in her mind was something werewolves just knew how to do. Her hair was now mostly on top of her head, his fingers moving easily through all of it as the shampoo made it slippery.

"Yes, but the druids are not the only ones, who like to guard their secrets ... there are also witches," saying this he was so close that Lydia felt his breath on her bare neck.

"Of course, there are - is there anything that does not exist?"

A revelation that somehow seemed only logical. Werewolves, druids and darachs, kaminas and banshees - if those existed why not witches, vampires or ghosts? Lydia was too relaxed thanks to fingers running over her head to muster any sort of anxiety about this.

"Luckily a few things have not been seen around for a few centuries. However, most things exist, just different from what is shown in printed books. Like the banshees," he said reaching for the shower head. "There was this young witch, she and her family lived here."

He paused and began rinsing out her hair. Lydia just closed her eyes and enjoyed the sensation. Wondering what happened between Peter and this girl. If she had to take a guess, she would say it probably did not end very well. At least not for the witch.

"Derek was still so little then, my sister had become pack leader and I knew witches and werewolves do not mingle. So, despite the unspoken rule, I sought her out. Jenna, that's her name, was a rebellious little witch. Told me things I was not supposed to know about, like her families' arcana."

He stopped as he turned off the water, hanging up the shower head.

"Arcana, is that like a spell book?" Lydia said curious.

"Not quite, it's a family history, a book that is filled with whatever contact that family had with beings that are magical like them. Witches, even more so than the Argents, are matriarchal, it's only meant for the eyes of the next leader of the clan."

Putting a comb on the edge of the tub, she saw that Peter reached for conditioner. Despite the feeling that she had spent too much time in the water, Lydia wanted him to go on.

"But you talked her into showing it to you?"

"As I said, she was rebellious, I barely mentioned it - but she brought it up again and again, until I finally agreed, despite knowing it was dangerous. Getting caught would have been really bad for both of us."

"So, that book, then you saw it ..." Lydia broke off.

As she felt comb gently running through her hair thus distributing the conditioner she sighed softly.

Peter continued: "Yes, I've gotten a really good, long look and in that book it spoke about a banshee, that the clan had encountered in the 1850s - there were pages upon pages, detailing what the banshee had been doing, what her weaknesses are, her strength and ..."

Lydia felt the comb in her hair slowing down as he hesitated. "How the banshee was killed?"

Taking in a sharp breath, he confirmed her assumption. "Yes, it was not pretty story.- Let's just say, the less people know what you are, Lydia, the better for you."

Despite the water still being warm, she felt a chill on her neck. While she had her doubts about what he told her being the full truth, the way he said it, sounded like he was warning her. It felt like more than advice. There was something about her being a banshee he had not yet told her.

"Not that you need to worry, you have your friends, who will protect you - and you have me. While you might not have noticed any physical increase in power, let me assure you, once allow me to assist you in reaching your full potential, you will be incredibly powerful. You have a very strong mind ..."

"... look, I am not on a power trip. I just want to know how to get rid of these nightmares that make me get up and drive around town to the nearest torn up body. At least I want to know how to get to them in time to save them. I've found enough dead bodies ... I am so done with that."

Peter whispered to her, just shushing her, as he continued to comb conditioner into her hair. It worked, she was calming down a bit. Considering most of the time spend with him, she was either scared out of her mind or terrified of some hideous vision, this was actually a nice change. Being able to find a path back to being calm and relaxed was not that easy for her.

"We certainly will be able to reach that point. If you are patient enough."

"So what happened to Jenna?"

"Her mother and my older sister decided that we were not allowed to see each other anymore. They moved - to Salem, if you can believe it."

"You never saw each other again afterwards?"

Lydia asked, not even sure why she wanted to know that particular piece of information. Peter was obviously not giving her the whole story but it could hardly be as simple as, her showing him the book and the whole thing ending because of custodial interference.

"No, we never saw each other again," he said with solemn voice.

"So, it's not her you got this place from?"

"That would be her sister."

"You also slept with her sister?" Lydia said.

"Actually, I slept with neither of them ...," Peter complained with an almost offended undertone. "Jenna and I were just good friends and Ines, well, she is fond of everyone who accepts her sister."

"Oh, and why would the witches and your sister have a problem with that? If they did not knew about you sneaking a peek at their special book?"

Putting the comb away, Peter used his hands to straighten her hair, leaving her shoulders bare. She was not really surprised when his hands touched them.

"That's because, a lot of witches are snobs, they look down on every other supernatural being. They especially did not like me around them. But that is a story for another time."

Lydia leaned back looking up at him: "Like that needs an explanation."

He leaned so close down that it seemed like he was going to kiss her, but when she sunk down to avoid his lips, he stopped. Instead, he got up sounding somewhat disappointed. "I'll have to make a call, when I get back I rinse out the conditioner - unless ..."

"I do it myself," Lydia replied. "You know, I am kind of hungry - for food."

"Don't worry, I have that covered. How are you feeling?"

Now, that he mentioned it, she realised that physically she felt really good. There was not even the hint of pain or soreness anymore. That seemed rather suspicious to her.

"Good, really good actually. You did not drug me again, did you?"

He laughed. "Feel the need to strip me out of my clothes?"

"No," she said sharply.

Shrugging he replied: "Then I guess, I did not. What I did do, is put something in the water that sped up the healing process."

"Something like a potion?"

"Something like that," he nodded.

After that he turned and left her alone once more. Leaving her to wonder why he was so overly considerate. It was a nice thought that he might actually feel bad about what he had done but there was something fishy about his whole behaviour. The last time he had not bothered with her either, although he had not been exactly in the best of shapes then. Then it dawned on her, that if this did speed up the healing process, then there would be absolutely zero physical evidence of what had happened.

Staring at the door she let out an angry breath. "Of course, why am I surprised about that?"


	4. Happy Birthday

**A/N:** For moral support and inspiring Teen Wolf discussions, I am in debt to Emeraldawn and calrissian18.  
The final brush over was done by my lovely beta raktajinos whose comments and corrections are always helping me improve the chapters.

Weregrrrl13 Yes, Peter does this all for his own purposes and if needed he can be very nice. As for Derek ... Lydia you'll find out next chapter.

* * *

Rinsing out her hair went much faster when she did it herself. After using her toes to dial open the drain, she propped herself up on the edge of the bathtub and carefully rose to her feet. After she had cleared her hair of the excess water, she reached for the bigger towel to wrap herself up, before she stepped out of the tub. Using the second one to rub off her hair and then wrapping it around her head like a turban.

The mirror showed her a surprisingly normal looking view of herself. She had cried a bit earlier but that was all gone. Her eyes were not even puffy looking. 'Because you went under water - into whatever was in that tub,' Lydia thought. Meanwhile the drain slurped as the rest of the water disappeared into it. Drying herself off, she suddenly noticed, that her handbag was lying under the washbasin on a footstool.

Looking from her old dress to the new one that Peter had hung up, the decision was actually not that difficult. After drying herself she went over to the package and found a gorgeous set of shiny silk underwear in the same colour as the velvet blue dress. Something felt wrong about accepting this. Still, the clothes were incredibly gorgeous, right down to the black pantihose with the stitched-in symbol at the ankles.

She waited a moment until her hair was not dripping anymore and then put everything on. Almost expecting Peter to conveniently step in just at the right moment. That did not happen. Eventually she stood there in that gorgeous dress, which fit her perfectly. Even the bra was a good fit and it certainly did brought out the best side of her figure.

For a moment, she hesitated, then she took the comb, washed off the last of the conditioner and tamed her hair, using the spare clips from her handbag to create the resemblance of decent hairstyle. A ringing distracted her and she realised it must have been the doorbell. She listened at the bathroom door and realised that it must be some form of take out.

"If you're ready, dinner certainly is," Peter said loud enough for her to hear it clearly.

"Almost done."

Her reply came almost without thinking. Then she shrugged and went back to the mirror taking her sweet time and care with doing her make-up. She was still barefoot, apart from the pantihose covering her feet. At least the floor was pleasantly warm. Lydia straightened herself before she opened the door. Deciding what ever happened, she would not cry anymore.

"Wow," was the first thing Peter said as he saw her.

"What?"

"You look absolutely gorgeous - much more beautiful than I had imagined."

Lydia found herself blushing and evading his looks, but she was not as shaken as earlier and could not help but realise something else.

"You planned all of this, didn't you? For quite some time. But how could you have known about ..."

"Hmm, you mean that my nephew would get himself into trouble, just in time for your birthday? Believe me, that was coincidence. I figured since I did not exactly say thank you the last time, I would do so this year."

It was of course not the truth, Lydia knew as much. Yet, somehow it did not seem to be complete lie either. Maybe some part of him had indeed felt bad about putting her through all this. However, why wait so long? Peter must have planned something. Maybe he had waited for something else to happen. Maybe it just had seemed somewhat poetic to make it happen again on her birthday. Without knowing more, she would hardly figure it out now.

"Anyway," he continued. "There is pretty nice restaurant close by and they were so kind to deliver."

As Peter stepped out of the way, she saw the dinner table. It was complete with everything, including candles and once more she got the feeling that he was trying to manipulate her. Only she had the growing suspicion that he wanted something else from her. At any rate, it sort of worked. Even though she was not particularly fond of those romantic endeavours. Yet, she liked it, while at the same time, she felt guilty about that.

"Candlelight dinner? Really?" Lydia said sounding as bored as she could.

The good thing was that in this case feigning her disinterest came easy to her. For once, it seemed that Peter either did not know what to make of it or choose not to contradict her. Instead, he pulled up her chair and helped her sit down.

"I used to be quite fond of them. Candles I mean," he sighed. "I figured, I am not going to let unfortunate encounters with flames spoil them for me forever."

That was so typical, she thought. Peter bringing up the fire using it in a way that would make anyone saying something against it look like a total jerk.

"I am just pointing out, that a few nice words and gestures, a dinner are not going to get you on my good side any time soon."

Her comment only got her another smirk and Lydia barely managed to fight of the urge to roll her eyes.

"Which reminds me, I almost forgot about something."

Peter walked back into the bathroom, giving her time to look at the meals on the table. It was far from being take out. She had an general idea what was on her plate and it looked delicious. It probably should not surprise her. He was not exactly one of her disposable boytoys, that at best could spot the difference between Chicken McNuggets and whatever their Burger King counterpart was called again.

At least it gave her something to think about, a nice distraction, and maybe that had been his intention. Nonetheless, whatever it was, it looked nice. If she had to guess it would be some form of poultry her bet was on turkey or chicken breast. With a bit of a fancy crust to keep the meat juicy. The green beans made her smile. To her delight they were prepared in a way that she preferred: They looked still firm to the bite and not overcooked to the point where they were mushy and had lost every last vitamin. The other part seemed to be some sort of potatoes but she was not sure what type.

Peter's dish of course had red meat on it, surprisingly vegetables in form of green peas and carrots that were formed like little bow-ties. The restaurant had also brought up a decanter filled with red wine. There was also a bottle of table water. Then he already came back, holding a pair of blue high heels, that also matched the colour of her dress. Then he knelt down next to her. Lydia tried hard to remember breathing as he took her ankles one by one and put the shoes on her. "I can't continue to let you run around barefoot, can I?"

Lydia remembered all too well, that for some reason she kept up ending traipsing around barefoot in the mud while he made her walk to the Hale house or collect wolfsbane in the middle of the night. There was something about him, that really got to her and it was more than just what had happened between them. They was something going on and whenever she felt his hands on her, it was like she felt scared and excited at the same time.

"I would ask, how you know my size so well - but I have the feeling, I will not like the answer." Lydia sighed and thoughts. 'I think I know the answer.'

Beta or Alpha, Lydia had not forgotten that he was still the most dangerous werewolf in town. At least most dangerous to her considering how she reacted to him. While she wanted to tell him, that buying her good favours was not working either, she kept that comment to herself. After all, it could not hurt if she let him try. She was more concerned about the way he kept touching her, that affected her so much more than any gift or kind gesture.

"Shall we eat then?"

Peter rose and walked over to the other side of the small dining table. Lydia smiled and picked up her knife and fork once he had a change to do the same. She tried the meat first and had to say, it was a particular delicious, juicy turkey. Her parents probably were able to make out all the different tastes easily but she could only discern a few of them, like the distinct taste of saffron. Taking a closer look at the crust of it, Lydia did recognize part of what it was made of: peanuts. Which she had an allergy to. "Are those peanuts?"

Peter had a devilishly smirk on his face. "Yes - but don't worry, you are not allergic anymore and you know it."

Feeling her heart pump against her chest, Lydia wanted to rush to her handbag. She knew this time, that he was not lying. All through the year, Stiles had occasionally offered her chocolate snack, that contained enough peanut traces to cause her a reaction. Only that did never happen.

"You ordered this to point that out?" she said angry regardless of the outcome.

Peter looked at her, calmly chewing his meat before finally answering her. "That and because it is a delicious dish. That you can eat now. There is no reason to be angry, I was not testing a theory. You are a banshee, which gives you certain advantages. Like when Isaac tested the Kanima poison on you - they all thought you were it as there was no reaction. The thing is you are immune to almost everything."

"If I was a banshee all along, why was I allergic to them in the first place?"

"Because your abilities were dormant. It can't exactly say what triggers them, but we know one method that worked. I could taste right away, that there was something different about you."

Lydia flinched. "Could we please not discuss what my blood tastes like on the dinner table?"

"Ah yes, that probably was not the best memory to bring up," he confirmed, then asked with a smile. "Wine?"

"As long as it is not drugged ..."

With that she pushed her glass a bit closer into his direction and watched how he poured the wine in until it was half-full. Then he poured himself half a glass before putting the wine down again. There was already a third gone, so he apparently did not want to get her drunk. Then something occurred to her.

"I can't get drunk anymore, can I?"

"You would have to drink an awful lot to feel any effects from alcohol," Peter said. "Werewolves have the same problem. Our livers just work too fast."

Lifting up her glass, Lydia stared at the red liquid, then looked at Peter's glass. It might be silly but somehow the colour reminded her of that bottle with the drugged energy drink. He must knew what her hesitation meant. Picking up his glass, he held it out saying.

"Here is to a very long life."

Lydia repeated the last words as she followed suit, waiting till Peter had tasted the wine before she could bring herself to take a sip of her own. It tasted like wine, not that she had the greatest experience with it. Her parents took her sometimes for fancy dinners, most of the time she ate with her friends or cooked for herself something that was a bit healthier and nourishing than the meals they got at school. Still, she liked the taste of this one, far better than what she had on family dinners.

"Are you going to?"

"What?" he asked amused.

"Teach me. You said if I helped you, you could help me predict people dying before it happened."

"I can, if you really want me to."

Then he continued with his dinner, while she realised that she barely had touched hers. She began to remedy this but also thought about whether she really wanted his help. Especially, if it meant spending more time with him. Time that might involve her dreams. Considering how glad she had been to get him out of her head, to not dream about rotting or dismembered corpses. She awoke sometimes from dreams that she could not remember but it was not as bad as it used to be. Unless, she had woken up feeling compelled to drive someplace beyond her control. Nothing of the sort had happened, despite the numerous murders occurring.

"Lately, I had not any dreams - but I am still waking up, feeling like I had dreamt something ..."

".. something truly awful?" he finished for her and Lydia nodded.

Peter lifted his glass and stared at it before he took another sip. "It could be one of two things: either you managed to block your dreams yourself or someone is blocking you. Since I have the feeling that you would want to help your friends, I gather it is more likely someone is blocking you."

Something about the way his voice got lost in thought near the end, made her realise that she had been right to wonder if they should not ask him for his opinion on the strange killings. After all, either he was going to tell them if he knew something or not, asking could not hurt.

"Do you know who is doing all these killings?"

Lydia took another bite, somehow not comfortable with the way Peter leaned forward and looked at her. "Why would you think that? Wondering if I might be responsible?"

"We know it's not a werewolf ... which is like all we know. I am asking because you seem to know a lot more about what else it out there."

He shrugged and smiled as he leaned back. "That I do, but I am hardly the only one. Why don't you ask, Dr. Deaton? By now, I am sure you are aware what he is. I expect after seeing the result of your little ritual he must be eager to help you figure out who is causing all these deaths."

The mere mention of the ritual got her hand trembling. If whatever had come to Beacon Hills because of that, then these death were their faults. Of course they had hardly been aware of what that actually meant. Deaton would have, while he probably did not foresee that all these murders would happen, it still seemed odd that so far he had not offered any more insights.

"He says there is not enough information for him to tell us anything."

"Hmm," Peter said and continued with his meal. Eventually he put his fork down. "I'm not sure yet either, but I will look into it. Bodies dropping on such massive scale, that is never a good thing. What I definitely could do, is help you become a more active dreamer."

"More active? Like I need any more nightmares ..." Lydia said.

"I can understand that - but the more control you have over them, the better you will be able to handle them - to use them. You said yourself you would prefer to dream in advance, so that there might be time to get to someone before they're shred to pieces."

Part of her wanted to be done with all this - but Lydia knew that this was not an option. If she could save lives, if there was just a chance, that Peter could help her to figure her dreams so she could use them to find people in time, then she had to take it.

"Just exactly how are you planning to teach me how to control my dreams?"

"It does not involve any more sex rituals, if that is what you are worried about ..."

The way he said it, Lydia had the distinct feeling he was regretting that somewhat. Nonetheless, the more she thought about it, she was convinced that he knew how to do this active dream part. That would certainly explain how he had been able to invade hers with so much ease.

"What do I need to do?"

This time he picked up his fork again, before calmly saying. "First, I would say, you finish your dinner, then I will drive you home and when you dream tonight, you try to hold onto anything you feel, even if you don't remember it."

Lydia looked at her plate, which was almost half full and realised that she probably should eat something. She doubted that she felt up to making anything once she got home. With Peter gone she could of course call her friends but what was she going to say? Somehow she had the feeling they would eventually find out but on this day, she was happy not to get into explanations about what had happened on her birthday yet again. There had been enough complaints directed at her the last time. This time she was even less sure what had transpired. 'Just don't think about it, Lydia - just don't,' she silently urged herself as she emptied her glass of wine.

"What?" she asked when she say how Peter looked at her.

"Most girls your age, usually take only to sweeter wines."

"I am not most girls."

He smiled. "Which is why I choose it."

That was a trap she could have foreseen. Even though she knew why he had brought this up, to show her that he knew her all too well, it still had the desired effect. She liked the fact that he had taken the time to find something more special for her, something neither her parents or her friends would not have been able to pull off. It did not matter, that he did it for his own reasons.

After she had finished her plate he offered her to share the last bit of the wine but she declined since she was not sure how much of that particular wine she could drink without it having side effects on her. She did not fully trust him about being immune to alcohol, after all he had drugged her. If she was to get slightly drunk and ended up doing something she knew she would really regret, she would feel even worse about this. So Peter drank the rest of the wine, having finished his plate a bit before hers already.

"Looks like it is about time to get you home."

Lydia looked at him, still trying to figure out what exactly he was playing at. At the same time she was also thinking about her dreams, how she only remembered having them but not a clear idea what she had dreamt. Something or someone blocking potentially horrible images from her mind seemed better than having someone play around in it. However, ignoring the problem would not make it go away or allow her to do something useful.

"Well, I won't object to that."

With that comment she stood up. Carefully taking the first steps with her new shoes. They fit her well enough to get slowly used to them. As she walked up and down a bit, Lydia noticed that Peter was watching her still seated at the table.

"Well, are you just going to stare or are you going to get the car keys?"

His reply was to pull them out of his pocket, but then he got up in a move so fast that it betrayed his true nature. "Let's go."

Minutes later, taking an elevator down to a subterranean garage, they reached the Jeep with the dirty wheels. In the car, she finally checked her cell phone. It was still not getting a signal and the clock showed that it was past curfew. Lydia could only hope that they were not stopped. If they were, that it wouldn't be Stiles' father.

"You said," Lydia said after a moment of silence, "that the other possibility was that I might have managed to block my dreams. Is that something I can learn as well?"

"Blocking dreams is probably the most easy thing to learn, but it comes with a price. If you do it too often, you will find that sleep won't give you the rest you need."

That was not the answer, she had been hoping for. That solution would have been too easy, life was never that generous. Peter obviously heard the dissatisfaction in her sigh, or maybe he saw her briefly pouting.

"Active dreaming on the other hand, might give you the ability to shape your dreams. That is your own dreams, if you connect to the dreams of someone else, it is harder. As for the prophetic dreams, that is even harder to influence. It will take time ..."

That was the obvious catch. If she was going through with learning what Peter called active dreaming, then she would have to spend more time with him. From his tone and the way he looked at her, he was certainly liked the idea. Lydia could not say that she minded that so badly, as long as he would behave. If she was right and the strange ritual had not involved Derek, maybe there was no need to tell the others. It was not like they had told her everything - at least not right away. Considering that nothing bad had happened the last time, after Peter had used her for a ritual, Lydia felt even less inclined to tell her friends about this time.

"Assuming there is time - nearly a dozen people have died."

Peter looked at her surprised. "So far I counted seven. Five strange animal killings and then two really gruesome murders."

"Our count includes four people who have died in bizarre accidents," Lydia explained. "Stiles has been keeping an eye out for that."

"Interesting," he replied. "No doubt, you have been expecting something like that for a while ..."

There it was again this feeling of guilt. The unnerving feeling that without that ritual these people would still be alive. "Too bad your sister removed the location of the Nemoton from your memory."

"Well, she wanted to keep us from doing what you did - giving power to it."

At the next red light, he turned to her. "Your friends ran out of options, it was either their parents or some vague threat to the town in the future."

"I know, it just - if there is something I can do to help figuring out who is behind those deaths - I want to help. What good did it that I drew those stupid roots, when it was obvious anyway that she would keep them there?"

"Still, feeling left out, aren't you?" Peter remarked. "Don't worry, that will change."

Lydia was not sure how much she would welcome such a change but as they finally came closer to her street, she was distracted. There was feeling of relief. She had not really believed that Peter had been lying about driving her home, but seeing that they headed into the right direction was even better. Although, it made the whole experience almost seem like an unreal dream. He had drugged her, forced her into some perverted sex ritual and yet Lydia felt more like coming home from a date. A date she might have had mixed feelings about, but that had rather pleasantly. Like having a really bad argument with Jackson and then after some angry sex, things turning rather well. She was still upset and confused about last night but she could not bring herself to figure out what she was feeling. That would take some time on her own.

Of that she would have more than enough this night. As they pulled up in her street, she could see the dark house. Her parent's car was gone, which meant they had not noticed anything and gone on their trip as planned. Lydia sighed. It was a good thing - better than them panicking and her having to explain where she had been. Yet, she was not all that happy thinking about that empty house.

"Delivered you back, safe and sound."

Peter stopped the Jeep directly in front of it. Unsure what to say, Lydia opened the door and got out. Part of her suggested just walking away but then she turned back with one hand ready to close the door.

"What happens after the next dream, how will I know that I got it right?"

Leaning a bit into the car, Lydia realised too late that this might not have been the best position given the low cut of her dress and the way the new bra shaped her décolletée. Peter just smirked but did raise his gaze after a few seconds to look at her face.

"Don't worry, I will stay in touch. Tonight - just try to enjoy the rest of your birthday."

"I'll try doing that."

Her sarcasm came through again and she slammed the door shut. As she strolled towards the front door, Peter simply started the car and drove off. Breathing once more with relief, despite not really feeling up to being alone, she got her key from her handbag. She unlocked the door quickly and rushed inside, locking it even faster. As she turned, suddenly the light in the living room went on.

"Surprise!"

Lydia almost dropped her handbag, but caught the strap with her elbow. That was unexpected, but for some reason her friends had been waiting for her. Jumping out from behind the couches and the door to the kitchen. It was so unexpected that she barely had time to defend herself against the traditional next part of these surprise parties.

"If you're going to sing, I am going to scream."

That got them to laugh, but it seemed like apart from Stiles nobody was really that keen on doing that. From what she had learnt, her screams could be quite painful for werewolves, so it remained beautifully quiet when it came to singing. Aidan was the first to approach her, but before he reached her she just had to satisfy her curiosity.

"Weren't you two supposed to be out of town?" she asked Scott.

"We are going tomorrow," Scott said from behind the couch.

Stiles nodded. "You did not think, we'll leave you alone on your birthday. Especially, since the last one got ..."

Then Aidan was drawing her into a kiss. "You look absolutely amazing, birthday girl."

For a moment, Lydia just went along with it, then she ended it far quicker than usual. Something about it felt wrong, but he did not seem to notice. Given that there were six more people coming up to her, hugging and congratulating her, she had not time to think about that. It was actually, nice combination of the party. They were four couples, well that is if one wanted to count Scott and Stiles as one.

Danny and Ethan gave her a small package, which she was sure was some sort of jewellery. -Danny hugged her and Ethan kissed her on the cheek, both complimenting her on her choice of outfit. Making her cheeks burn so much that even the non-werewolves were seeing it. Allison agreed on their sentiment, with Isaac enthusiastically joining in, even though, he seemed a bit unsure if that was the right choice judging by the side glance toward Allison. Lydia had still not figured out if those two were still just friendly or very friendly. After she congratulated her, Allison told her with a smirk, that she had left her present upstairs on her bed, while Isaac handed her something that seemed to be a big textbook by the feel and weight of the package.

She put those on the couch table and let Stiles hug her. As usually it was somewhat awkward. Not just given that he had this crush on her and she had just grown used to him as being a good friend. He was one more person to tell her how great she looked and this time she was not the only one who was blushing. At least this time, Stiles' present was not as embarrassingly large and awkward. It was an envelope with a bow pinned on top of it. Scott was bit more reserved, but also could not help on saying that her dress looked nice. Which was fine with her. At least his package was not that obvious.

Lydia sighed, realising she would have to open them eventually. For now, they all sat down, Aidan holding on very tightly to her waist.

"We just prepared some light snacks, knowing that you would come from dinner with your parents."

Allison said pointing to the bowls of chips and sweets standing around, as she settled down with Isaac on the two seater. Danny and Ethan took the larger couch and Stiles sat down on the edge with Scott settling onto the armchair that completed the couch set.

"Yeah, how was dinner with your parents?" Stiles asked.

"Fine," Lydia said. "Excuse me for a moment."

Then she put down the other presents and rushed upstairs to her bedroom. When she came from her bathroom, Allison was knocking at the open door. "Heh? Everything okay?"

"Yes, yes, I am okay - just a bit tired and really surprised."

"I hope you are not disappointed, given that you always had such great parties ..."

Lydia shrugged. "The last one was not that great."

"Yeah, best forget about that one, I don't think that was such a particularly good time for either of us," Allison said as her gaze fell upon something on Lydia's desk. "Oh my, from Aidan?"

With that she snatched up the little jewellery box on it. The moment her friend commented on how gorgeous the earrings were, Lydia knew somehow that it was not Aidan's present. Quickly, she snatched the little card that was underneath. It read, Sweet Dreams, Peter.

Her eyes darted to the ceiling, as she nearly crumbled the note between her fingers. It was so typical of him. Just as she almost had been able to push him and the events aside, he just managed to intrude once more. The worst part, Allison was right, those earrings were fantastic. Beautiful enough to wonder if she should throw them into his face or just the empty box.

Considering everything, she did deserve some compensation and it did not have to mean that he was buying her forgiveness. In a way it made her even more angry.

"Yes, it is gorgeous, I guess he did not want the others to know. Not that your presents won't be great."

Taking the box from Allison's hand, she quickly closed it and threw it into the drawer of her night stand.

"I certainly hope so, although mine is more practical. Did a little online shopping on my aunt's account."

"Your aunt, the one that burned down the Hale place?" Lydia asked surprised.

Allison sat on the bed, next to her package. "I know, seems a bit off. But since were are not old enough to buy toys ... I figured why not?"

"Toys?" A knowing smile rushed over Lydia's face as she lifted the lid of the gift box. "Oh my ..."

"I figured, you can never have enough of these, and then some ..."

Lydia raised a pair of fur covered handcuffs causing Allison to smile. "They only had pink, baby-blue and tiger-stripes, I somehow thought the tiger one was more fitting."

"Wow, can't believe you remembered that one," Lydia pointed to the butterfly shaped toy that lay amongst a stack of condoms and three tubes of lube.

"Girls?" Isaac called to them from the hallway.

With a quick motion the cuffs went back in and the lid was closed. "Just a second."

Giggling for a bit longer, Lydia had at least for the moment other things on her mind. After she went down, things actually turned rather pleasant. In fact, she realised that there was something more pleasant about a smaller party than a large one with people she barely knew. It felt utterly normal to sit around her couch table, snuggled up against her not-boyfriend just having fun like teenagers had, or at least those not hell-bent on getting drunk.

Although normalcy was a bit relative, since four of the people around her table were werewolves. Which also left one werewolf for each team. After outvoting the Twins, they decided to play Trivial Pursuit, to allow for an easier flow they paired up making for a far livelier game. They were actually fairly evenly matched, although Allison and Isaac were eventually falling behind, near the end it came down to a race between Lydia with Aidan and Stiles with Scott.

Since Aidan's pop culture knowledge was not much better than Lydia's eventually they lost to them. In the end, everyone had fun. Lydia had the feeling that the Twins were also still in the process of getting used to all that normalcy. This was far step from running around with a pack of bloodthirsty killers, considering all they knew before was abuse. It was probably surprising they were even able to sit there and joke around with them.

"Another round?" Allison asked.

"Aw, I am afraid I need to get home ..." Danny said. "My mom is coming home from her late night shift in an hour."

Lydia would have liked for this to last longer but as she looked at the clock it was almost 2 am.

"We got to leave early, too. Deaton will call us with the location where we might find Derek first thing in the morning," Scott weighed in.

"Look it's okay - it was a great party. Maybe one of these days, we can do it again - when less strange murders are happening?"

"That would be nice," Ethan agreed.

It took about half an hour till everyone had said their goodbyes. Ten minutes later, it was just Aidan who stayed with her, very close to her. Lydia felt him moving behind her, running his hands over her sides but as he leaned down to kiss her neck, she found herself stepping forward overtaken by a sudden chill.

"What?" Aidan said disappointed.

Lydia shrugged. "Sorry, just too tired."

Hoping that a half-truth would not trip him off, that the real reason was entirely different. Feeling him pressing against her like that, was only making her recall the way Peter had done the same. Just that he really knew how to use his hands. Either way, Lydia knew she was not up for sex. But she turned and gave Aidan an apologetic smile. After all it was not his fault that she already had her fair share of birthday sex.

"Well, then how about I carry you upstairs and keep you all warm and ..." he kissed her.

"I think I sleep better alone."

It felt really bad rejecting Aidan, especially since he was always so respectful, always ready to stop when she demanded it. In that regard he was so very unlike Peter. Lydia placed a consoling kiss on Aidan's lips then walked off. "You know, if the couch is not inviting enough, there are few guest rooms that are always made."

The frustration was tangible but it was better that way. Every time they had just meant to spend the night sleeping in one bed, they had been doing more than that. Tonight she knew she would only give him false hope. Maybe after a good night's rest in her own bed, without a werewolf around, she would come around and things could go back to normal.

* * *

**Final Note:** Peter won't show up till chapter 8 - but I hope the wait is worth it, I at least has tons of fun writing it. Unfortunately, the betaing and editing needs longer ... but I'll give out the chapters as fast as I can.


	5. The morning after

A/N: Thanks again to my beta raktajinos for going through this long chapter. As always Emeraldawn and calrissian18 for doing word wars with me and chat Teen Wolf.

Weregrrrl13 The symbol on the ankle was nothing with special meaning, as for the not smelling Peter on her, I'll go into that in chapter six, Peter has another car besides the jeep (which was for driving to the cabin ... not everyone drives their fancy car through the woods) Not sure about describing the pairing as romantic though but there will be more Peter/Lydia in the later chapters ...

* * *

The good thing about the morning was, that Lydia did not awake screaming her head off. There was something unpleasant lingering on, a feeling of dread and terror in the aftermath of waking which she usually pushed away. Grateful that nasty images did not haunt her for a change. Only know she forced herself to hold onto that unpleasantness. Lying in bed, her eyes still closed, she focused on what she was feeling.

It was hard to tell why she felt the way she did. There was this awful smell that even now felt almost real. The smell of decay would certainly explain that feeling of dread, even though it was not human decay. Apart from knowing what that smelled like due to the nightmares she had gotten from Peter, it smelled too much like rotten fish.

There were voices in the darkness. It was more whispers or maybe just the wind. Maybe the darkness was because she was not able to remember the dream. Lydia kept thinking that nothing was scarier than a place without light and something moving, when she knew that something was there in her dream.

Sitting up, she took a few deep breaths. It was a lot harder to shake off that gnawing feeling of terror now that she had embraced it. Something that Peter had not bothered to warn her about. Probably served her right for doing exactly what he had suggested.

'Idiot,' she thought and meant herself.

Once her anger passed, she realised that of course focusing on a nightmare would be terribly unpleasant. She was not sure what her dream might mean or if it was useful at all. For all she knew she might have some weird recall due to the images Peter planted in her mind about a year ago.

There was something she could not pinpoint, that made her look for something to write it all down, just on the off chance that it was going to be significant. Sighing she turned and rummaged through her drawer. Her little notebook she found easily, but before she was able to locate a pen, her fingers touched a little box. Another reminder of Peter's intrusion on her life. She shoved it deeper into the back and then got a hold of a pencil. Leaning back, she wrote down what she had experienced in her recall.

Finally, she shut the book and threw it into the drawer. Lydia decided it was high time for a good long shower. If she was lucky today there would be no more weirdness, apart maybe from having her sort of werewolf boyfriend sleep on the couch downstairs. All in all she hardly considered that unusual anymore. She was pretty used to the werewolf part of her life. Except for those moments when that included tearing and shredding. With the Alpha pack finally broken up or dead, that had not been going on for a while now.

Slipping out of her nightgown, Lydia looked at herself in the large mirror. Apart from the two old scars there was not a mark on her. It was like it never happened, she did not even felt like she had exhausting sex recently. Yet, there was that gorgeous dress, which she had hung up on her semi-open walk-in-closet last night. Lydia was convinced that Peter had followed a strategy even after they had performed that ritual.

Lydia had the feeling, he wanted make her seem like a liar if she told the others about what happened. He wondered how he had set up the surprise party, there had to be some proof of his involvement. The others would certainly not believe he did that just to apologize for ruining her party last year. At least she hoped her friends would choose to believe her, if she decided that she needed to tell them.

Rushing into the shower, she let pleasantly hot water run over her body. Maybe it was indeed best to just forget what had happened. Last year she was even more messed up and had eventually worked through all of that mostly on her own. Lots of distracting sex with Jackson before his departure to London had helped as well.

In hindsight, she was more than glad that she had not opened up to Miss Morrell. Good advice or not, Lydia did not trust her. There was an air about her and the clear fact that she had known what her drawing meant and not said anything. Since the lunar eclipse, Lydia had not been called back into the office for more pointless talks.

Reaching for a towel, she first dried of her hair a bit before wrapping it around her head. Wrapped in a huge towel, she went back to her room, intend to find a suitable outfit for the day. Or she would have if she did not find Aidan sitting on her bed. He lounged, wearing nothing but a pair of jeans. Lydia realised that if she looked for distraction she might have found that.

"Morning," she said and walked over to kiss him.

Aidan acted as is he was not particularly interested, playing it cool as she remained casually draped over her sheets. It was hard to resist such a gorgeous set up: there was something about his well pronounced, muscular body practically begging to be ravished that called forth her own libido.

Lydia figured he was still upset about last night, usually he was not playing the reluctant lover. Even when he was not particularly sure where to put his hands, he had seldom shown reservations. It was a challenge she felt like taking: winning over the brooding, slightly unwilling boy toy. Not that she pegged the battle as particularly hard.

Lowering the towel a bit more to reveal more of her breasts, she put one knee on the bed to lean over him. At first she acted as if she wanted to simply kiss him but instead choose bend down closer to his neck. She had long since figured out that it drove him crazy in the best of ways when she was teasing the right spot. It took her a few seconds before she was sucking gently where the shoulder met the neck.

A moan escaped Aidan as she tested the area, slowly moving closer to where she knew he would not hold back for long. Her mission was almost accomplished when he roughly grabbed her shoulders and pushed her away. It was not hard enough to get her off the bed but Lydia felt that it was not a playful shove either.

"What?" she asked angry.

One did not get Lydia Martin all worked up and then decided to pull the brakes. He had been the one to walk into her room without knocking, draping himself provocatively on her bed. That move was just not right.

"How come, everytime you are in the mood, we are doing it, but when I feel I like it you can simply say no?" Aidan lamented.

Blood rushed through her body, but this time from between her legs to her cheeks. It was probably the dumbest thing Aidan had ever said to her. Lydia was overwhelmed by how much of a turn-off this was. Usually, she was not that easy to put out of her mood but this got really under her skin and in an irrational emotions flaring up way, too.

"You know what, forget it!" Lydia snapped.

With a fluid move she got up and wanted to head away from the bed, when she felt Aidan's hand on her arm. Brushing it off, she ignored his surprised protest and head over to her closet.

"What's the matter? I was just pointing out that I simply can't seem to resist you …" Aidan said.

The tone in his voice, was so genuinely hurt but with a hint of annoyance, that she did not even know what to say to that. On the one hand she wanted to apologize for being so abrasive, on the other hand she wanted to tell him that he should maybe stick to saying less. Talking was really not his strength and sexy, complementary talk had not worked out well before.

"Look, the moment is gone - take a cold shower."

With one quick step back into the room, she gestured at her door giving him a quick lock. The cute thing about Aidan was that, whenever he looked like a kicked puppy, he also looked like he wanted to bite your arm off. Although today that did not really help to win her over.

"Fine."

Aidan did indeed sound angry, like she really had done it this time. She half expected him to walk out of her room but he did went for the shower. That at least gave her time to get dressed and think a bit. Picking a skin-tight pair of jeans, she put on her long, high-heeled boots and then just standing there with her bra on went through the tops.

Noticing the missing dress with the buttons, she asked herself if Aidan's comment had only gotten her so upset because the night before she had not exactly wondered what Derek, or whoever it had been, might have said to the sex. Not that she had really been able to think much. She ruffled through her hair, which was still a bit too wet. Going back to that night her mind told her that it had been so wrong but if she recalled it, she had a hard time remembering anything past the arousal and intense orgasms.

If not for a few drops of cold water falling onto her back, she could have lost herself in the memory of that. Then poor Aidan would have been really perplexed if she went after him again. Instead she forced herself to think clothes, finally choosing a combo with a long-armed, white undershirt and a more loose short-armed top. She had just tuck the white shirt in her jeans and fastened the belt, when Aidan came back into the room. He was dripping and naked.

"Do you have any larger towels?" he said with a big grin.

Lydia took one from her closet and threw it over. "You know, that might work better next time if you don't actually take a cold shower."

With that she pulled over the final top and and headed out of the door. Not sure if Aidan would stay for breakfast, being not that hungry herself, she just grabbed a light snack, while listening to noises coming from upstairs. She just had gotten something fixed, some cereal with fresh fruits, as she heard him coming downstairs. After a brief moment, he joined her in the kitchen. He was clearly not planning to stick around, since he was wearing his jacket.

"Do you want me to pick you up later?" he asked. "I assume you don't want to come with me now …"

"Did I forget a date or something?"

The moment she said that, she remembered. Yesterday before leaving, Allison had mentioned that they were going to meet at noon at her place, to see if they can come up with a strategy. Mostly it would serve to compare notes and compile everything they had found out so far. It was certainly a good idea, but she did not feel like going herself.

"I meant the meeting at the Argent's place."

"Yeah, sorry, I don't think I'll go. Its not like I can contribute anything and Allison can tell me later what the consensus is."

Aidan came closer and waited until she looked up. Laying his hand on her cheek he said: "Maybe hearing us put all the pieces together, gives you an insight."

"It does not work that way," she took his hand off, but held onto it for a moment. "I can not control it, right now I do not even remember clearly what I've dreamt."

It was frustrating for her to realise that she just did not have the means to contribute constructively. This was something she had to figure out by herself, it was not like she could ask anyone for advice, since she knew what everyone would say: Stay away from Peter. They had no idea what it was like to sense that there was something just lurking to come out and being unable to let it.

Others counting on her to figure something out was not exactly helping the situation. At first, she had just tried to ignore it, merely humouring Stiles when had brought that Ouija board to school. Then she had ended up drawing the tree, something she had also tried ending up with her drawing eyes. Over and over again, sometimes open, sometimes closed, big and small.

"Well, if there is anything … you know call."  
"Don't worry, if I find myself taking a nap and then have the urge to find a dead body, I will call you first thing."

Aidan shook his head. "That's not what I meant."  
"Oh," she found herself saying, as she got his meaning. "Thanks, I appreciate it."

"In case you change your mind, the meeting starts at 2pm. You stay with us, or I could come over, whatever you prefer."

"I'll have to see," Lydia said finding herself rescued by the phone ringing.

Her parents called, complaining that her cell phone was turned off and the line inside the house busy all day long. As she greeted her parents and made excuses, saying she had problems with her loading cable, Aidan gave her a kiss on the cheek and mouthed a good-bye. He knew her mother well enough to know that this would take a while. Lydia got belated birthday well-wishes and the information that they had put money and gift certificates in an envelope on her father's desk. It seemed that ever since her parents got back together, they were giving less thought to her presents. In the past years, her mother had least always found the time for some mother-daughter shopping at her favourite mall. It might not seem much but it seemed those moments were getting rarer and rarer.

After the call, she finished her breakfast and decided to put her birthday money to good use. Remembering that in November a new bookstore had opened, one that dealt with esoteric content, she decided to finally give it a look. There was still this feeling of complete bias against this pseudo-scientific, half-baked magic stuff, but some of it had to be coming close to the truth.

Werewolves were real, she was a banshee and whatever that meant, was reason enough to believe that maybe some answer were to be found in the oddest places. First she had to fix her hair and makeup. By the time she got out of the house it was already close to 11 am. Lydia hoped the store was open today.

Her worries that she might need to return on monday were unfounded, the open sign hang inside the door. There was also a whole lot of other stuff visible in the door and the windows: crosses of all kinds, chinese symbols and the like, dragon, bat and other pendants were displayed next to crystals and books pertaining to the history or use of whatever object was shown.

Lydia pushed open the door and gentle jingle was heard. The inside of the store was not that different from the windows, between the books were glass cabinet with jewelry and stones, the books themselves were sorted by topics, except for a shelves in the back of the shop. Those books were noticeably older.

"Good morning."  
The female voice greeted Lydia, who was a bit freaked out since turning around did not reveal anyone close by. It was only when she looked up, that Lydia saw a woman crouching on top of a shelf busy exchanging a light bulb. Once she was done, she jumped down landing with catlike grace a few steps from her.

"Sorry, if I startled you."

"Sorry, yes - good morning. For a moment, I thought I was hearing voices ..." she acted as if that was a joke but the awfulness of that possibility was making it more a bitter confession.

"You are new here …"

Luckily the voice and the woman were very real. Lydia could not help but stare, since the Korean woman in front of her was not really what she had expected from an esoteric bookshop employee or maybe owner. While clearly in her thirties, the slender, very athletic woman was looking more like someone bound to a heavy metal concert. Instead of long, woolen skirts, a perky pair of glasses and self-knitted sweaters, it was tight black leather pants, heavy steel-capped boots and a armless shirt with a transparent back section. Then there were those tattoos and the three piercings, Lydia smiled and forced herself to say something before her staring became obvious.

"I am, I was looking for something … a book about dreaming." That made the woman laugh for some reason. "What is so funny about that?" Lydia wanted to know.

"I just heard the skeptic tone, so I wonder is it a gift for a believer or are you having bad dreams …"

"No, my dreams are just fine." It was the standard reply, whenever she got asked by an adult about her dreams. At least one that did not knew better. Lydia wondered what made this woman so spot on about it. Since she was looking for something, there was no need to be totally abrasive about the issue. "I just used to be able to remember what I dreamt. At least most of the time, lately … not so much."

The woman nodded listening to her without interrupting her. It seemed that while her skepticism was noticed, Lydia was still welcome. She was observed with curious eyes and wondered how much older the woman actually was. If she had to guess she would say she was not quite her parent's age but she seemed older than Derek.

"What made you decide to come here?" she asked eventually, then added: "I am usually at first name basis with my customers, so feel free to call me, Yoon - Lydia."

Hearing a name sent a slight shock through her and removed the colour from her face. That was really not what Lydia had needed from this visit. "How do you know my name?"

Yoon held a hand in front of her mouth, she was clearly laughing even though her eyes rolled up as if she was embarrassed. "Oh, I am so sorry. It's part of my role here - to give the impression that I am psychic. I read an article in the newspaper a few days ago. They mentioned that over a year ago there had also been animal attacks and that only one person attacked survived. There was a picture with your name. I guess you being so skeptical I wanted to impress you and did not even think that through."

Of course, there was nearly always a non-supernatural explanation. It must be that stupid dream, that stupid ritual, the whole situation that had her on the edge.

"I just slept reasonably unwell," Lydia said. "At any rate, it's good to know that you don't actually believe you are psychic."

"Hardcore skeptic, but I got those as customers as well. What exactly are you looking for then? A way to remember your dreams?" Yoon was back to business, but the smile had now disappeared and she did look apologetic.

Lydia shrugged, she did not want to sound too nutty after having made her point that she was not fooled by the fake esoteric stuff. Being skeptic was that much harder if there was actual something supernatural. It was almost impossible to make the point that a lot of this was contrived when she herself tended to wake up in the middle of the night with the urge to find torn up bodies.

"Active Dreaming," she recalled the term Peter had used. "A friend mentioned that to me, do you have anything about this."

That explanation brought up another big smile to Yoon's face. "Hmm, a friend … well let me see what we got and if there is anything useful among these volumes."

Lydia followed Yoon as she took course towards another shelf, the one that was closer to the back with the older books. All the time she had a clearer view of the tattoos on her back and arms. They were all in the black tribal style, one was over her heart in some sort of spiral pattern, the others had spiral elements but were more lengthy or contained others patterns. Lydia could not help but think that they did look beautiful on her even though she was not a fan of tattoos.

"That must have hurt a lot," Lydia found herself saying.

"Oh, yes, it did!" Yoon turned briefly to give her a knowing smile. "But it was worth it."

"It's very you."

It certainly fit her style, even though, her style did not seem to fit the rest of this store. Then again what did Lydia know about esoteric book stores? In this town was nothing as it seemed anyway. After all she was bringing her injured boyfriend to the vet and not the hospital. At the shelf with the older books, Yoon crouched and looked at the row of books in the shelf over the bottom one.

When she rose again, she was was holding a thick volume with an unimpressive beige cover in her hands. It looked like it was bound fifty-sixty years ago. "The Art of Dreaming," Yoon read. "By Salanda Melbourne. If you want more control over your dreams, that is what will help you."

Lydia took the offered book and looked at the cover and back. There was no ISBN number, even beyond that it seemed as if was privately published by a someone called BlackTorn Publishing. The content table showed the book was separated into three parts: the nature of dreams, followed by the dangers of dreaming and the active dreamer.

"Wow, that is … sort of interesting," Lydia commented still not sure if this was any good. Chances were that this book might help her or be total waste of time and money. Figuring that she was a fast reader and this was not exactly heavy lecture, she asked Yoon for the price.

"Oh, just take it. It's my apology for being so insensitive earlier. If you don't like it, you can bring it back and look for a gift for a friend - but I think you will find it useful. It's not like this new age nonsense. It is written by someone who knows what is what."

"Okay," Lydia said not sure if she should accept the offer. As she contemplated the question, she had a few more for Yoon. "So, you do believe that there is more to all this?"

"I don't believe, I know." After a dramatic pause, she continued. "It is just most of the time, it is all fake. But once in awhile, we do cross paths with the real thing. I might not be psychic but I can tell the difference between a fake and a true psychic."

"But you fake it."

"Ah, you keep thinking that I am deceiving my customers, by pretending to be something I am not." Yoon laughed again, making Lydia wonder why that accusation amused her so much. "I give people what they want, but I don't go around pretend I can find lost puppies or children. If I am asked I always tell them how I know. They still come, if people believe a little dose of reality won't turn them away. Although occasionally some start to question things, then they still come back."

Lydia began to understand where Yoon was coming from. "You are also a skeptic."

"You've seen right through me."

Then they heard the soft jingle from the door as an another customer entered the store. It was strange but Lydia had the feeling that Yoon had heard the electric bell before her. That was another oddity, if there was ever a shop that should have a real bell hanging over the door, it was this one.

"Well, why don't you read the book, see if it helps you. If you got more question, please come back, Lydia."

"Okay, Yoon. I take the book. Thanks."

Pressing the book against her chest, she said goodbye and then walked past down the corridor wondering why the customer immediately had crept out of sight. She caught a glimpse of the man and knew that she had seen him somewhere before. Then she left the store and hurried to her car.

Curious to read a bit more she flung open the book and studied the introduction, which still seemed rather pseudo-scientific to her. Then again, this was not exactly science. There seemed to be rules to all of this but if anyone knew them it was only the druids and to a lesser degree the werewolves. At least, some werewolves seemed to know stuff. She was not so sure about Scott or Isaac and even the Twins seemed to know very little about the legends and old rules. Probably, because that was only shared between the emissary and their alphas and from what she could see so far, that was on a strict need to know basis.

Halfway through the first page of chapter one, her cell phone rang. It was Stiles.

"Heh Lydia, hope you slept well - no weird dreams?"

"Not really and no, I'd had no special insights either …"

"That is okay, I just wanted to call because we are going to be away until Tuesday."

She almost did not asked this but realising she had to know, she brought it up regardless.

"And you are sure that Derek is there?" Lydia closed the book and put it on the passenger seat.

"Deaton said, that his colleague had seen Derek and Cora with the pack just Thursday, so they should be there."

"Wednesday, when Wednesday?"

But she knew it hardly mattered, there was just no time for Derek to slip away unnoticed, get possessed and be accidentally found by Peter. If they needed that long to get there, then nothing added up. She had known it right away but somehow she had pushed it aside, because if the other werewolf had been Derek, that was sort of okay. Given the chance she would not kick him out of her bed, even though he was bit too brodish for her taste. Maybe that was why she had known, possessed or not possessed, Derek was cute. The other werewolf had not been.

"I don't know," Stiles said sounding annoyed, then suddenly worried. "Lydia?"

Her breath came too fast and too hard. It was only by the third time, a silent Lydia came from the phone that she picked it up from her lap.

"Yes, what?"

"Everything alright?"

"Yes, I am okay. Look Aidan already volunteered as my call pal while you are out of town. You know, in case I get the urge again …"

Stiles was not good at hiding his devastating disappointment. "Okay, that is good."

"I need to get going, call me when you found Derek, will you?"

It was a hassle to keep herself together and sound unbothered, when part of her wanted to tell him what was going on. With Derek out of the equation it seemed more likely that nobody would find out; at least the more hefty details. If those never came out, that was alright with her.

It was not that she was shy about her sex life but that had been a number too kinky even for her. Then there was the fear that they won't believe her or that they go after Peter. While she doubted that they would kill him again, she did not felt that the situation warranted a violent solution. If there was a solution to the problem. For that she would need to know what exactly the problem was.

The lack of information made it impossible to make an informed decision, which meant she needed to go to the meeting. Not so much for more details on the killings but she did need a few questions answered that only a werewolf could answer or maybe a werewolf hunter. Lydia looked at the clock and realised it was way too early. Nonetheless, she decided to drive over right away.

It was shortly after noon, when she parked her car behind Allison's. Given that she could either go up to the Twin's apartment and ask them questions or take a crack at Allison's father, it seemed obvious that the latter was the more sensible option. Aidan was a lot easier to get a hold on.

Then her phone rang again, this time it was Allison. "Hi Allison," Lydia greeted her.

"Hi, em I was wondering, will you come over later?"

"No - I am not coming over later," she replied and heard her friend's disappointed "Oh".

"I am already here, actually," Lydia explained. "Is it okay if I come up?"

"That is perfect, Dad is cooking dinner and we were hoping you might want to join us."

Allison's voice lightened right up. The way she had initially sounded, Lydia had the feeling her friend felt like she had reason to be worried. As she walked over the elevator, she realised that in all likelihood Stiles must have called her. She had after all dropped the phone and not replied to him for a few moments.

She was greeted cheerfully at the door by Allison. In the background she heard cooking noises. At least, her friend's father could cook unlike either of Lydia's parents: they were better at fancy appetisers and having the catering service on speed dial. Yet, it had always been equally uncomfortable to eat over at either place for them.

At first, because Allison's mom was so weird when it had come to her, then of course because she was no longer there leaving a gaping hole at the dinner table. Lydia knew that Allison was still bitter about it, although more due to the sheer absurdity of the situation. After all, if anyone knew how to keep a werewolf under control under the full moon it was her parents. If they only killed werewolves that had killed innocent people, then why should hunters take their own life.

It sometimes seemed to her that all their families were absolutely messed up. Hers were casually disinterested in her life or at least those aspects that did not fit in their hush-hush view of life. Allison's was made up of psychos and sometimes she had the feeling that Chris Argent who ran around chasing werewolves was the most normal of the bunch. Stiles' father was one step away of being an alcoholic and only lately had begun getting closer with Stiles. That made Scott almost the runner up for having the most normal parents, given that his mom was pretty much the most down to earth stable person Lydia could think off. She never really had met his father but since he was with the FBI, he could not be that totally messed up.

Allison suggested that she might taste what her father was cooking, while she was setting the table. While she was sure that Chris would not botch up the dinner, as his meals had always been edible, it might give her a chance to ask him a question or two.

"Hello, Mr. Argent," Lydia greeted him.

The last time, she had seen Allison's father was in a khaki outfit with mud encrusted boots, two guns and a crossbow reading tracks in blood sprayed ground. It was a stark contrast seeing him with a pink and white apron as he stood at the stove in front of something that looked like a hybrid between a wok and a pan. From the smell he was cooking something mediterranean.

"Heh, happy belated birthday wishes," he said. "I hope you are doing okay?"

"Why wouldn't I?" Lydia realised that she had sounded way too hostile and smiled. "Sorry, everyone just wants to know if I had dreams lately. But I don't, none that I recall. I wish everyone would like ask my opinion on things in general."

His expression softened as she had gone on. He kept opening the glass lid and stirred what was underneath. It definitely smelled delicious. "I understand, from what Allison told me, you have also been good at translation old texts. That is an extremely valuable talent as well. Even though you do not feel comfortable with weapons that might be something you could look into."

"Yeah, that for example, then I am also capable to put information together or analyse it. I don't want to butt in on the running around the woods. I had my share of that."

Lydia was a bit taken back by her own anger. So far she had mostly ignored the feelings of being left out, after all she had rejected Allison's offer to learn how to fire a gun. It just gave her a weird feeling holding a weapon created for the purpose of killing in her hand. She could not quite explain it. Just because because she was not interested in the physical stuff did not mean she wanted to be excluded from everything else. Sometimes she was just left out, as she did not necessarily want to go canvassing through the woods.

"Aren't you afraid that emerging yourself deeper into what is happening might actually make things worse? Maybe to keep out of it, keeps your intuitions at bay ..." Chris suggested.

"If my father was actually concerned, he might sound like this," Lydia said and smiled back. It was sort of touching to hear the genuine concern without any belitteling. "When I first drove out to find a body … I was pretty much out of the loop, so I doubt it."

He nodded and his face turned all concerned. "Oh yes, the boy at the pool."

"I've been wondering, with druids out there, werewolves … is there more, if so could something like spirits and demons exist?"

"Thinking about messing around with Ouija boards?" He looked at her for a moment, but if Lydia knew to deflect one thing it was the critical stare of an adult. "These things certainly exist, however, from what I understand, the more unnatural they are the less likely we are to encounter them. Spirits, like actual haunted places exist. Demons I am not so sure about, what the church does for example, has not anything to with actual supernatural entities. Either way, I suggest not mess with these things."

She was wondering how the Argents knew these things, if they did hunt other things as well. Then again, Allison had told Lydia that her father had asked her to keep on eye on her after she had been bitten. . When it turned out she was no werewolf they lost interest quickly.

"But real exorcisms exist?" she pressed on.

Chris shrugged: "As far as I know, the only way to get rid of a demon, that is according to my father's books - is to kill the person."

"Oh."  
Lydia had hoped for a different answer. It need not be the truth, just because a book owned by Allison's psychotic grandfather was saying as much. Yet, it was disconcerting.

* * *

BTW, since I wrote so much already and the plot is a bit more complicated, I would be grateful for alpha readers who don't mind reading through longish chapters and tell me whether I mention some things to often, if I should expand or answer certain questions sooner (if possible).

Given that I am currently done till chapter 11 (not beta read yet), with chapter 12 and 13 just needed some editing and smoothing that I need to do myself first, that gives you an awful lot to read. If you are interested sent me a pm.

I try to put out the chapters as fast as I get them beta-read ...


	6. Brainstorming

A/N: This chapter is not beta-read, I am sorry about that but I still have not found a new beta. I have looked over this twice and hope I caught the worst mistakes. But given the length of the story, the pairing ... it's difficult finding someone.

But since I kept you waiting so long, I though I give you a new chapter ... but I might change few minor details and at the very least remove mistakes when someone points them out to me.

wergrrrl13 Oh, Scott's dad will show up as well - but he hasn't yet. I feel bad for Aidan, too. Especially considering how things go on ...

* * *

After Lydia had remembered that she was supposed to taste the food, she had gotten out of the kitchen pretty fast. The conversation with Allison's father had not answered all her questions and what she had found out so far did not encourage her to dig deeper. It was like knowing that eventually she was going to uncover something hideous.

With Allison so obviously determined to keep Lydia distracted from whatever gloomy thoughts crept upon her, it was easy to forget about finding answers for the moment. They sat down at the dinner table and waited for Allison's father to bring the most important thing: the pan with that delicious smelling and even better tasting mediterranean dish. It did not actually had a name but was a combination of tomatoes, zucchini, bell peppers, some onions and pasta.

Dinner started out rather well, the food arrived, everyone expressed the usual formalities and Chris commented that Lydia thought there was enough salt in the dish, as well. Allison replied by adding a little extra salt. It was followed by an odd silent as everyone seemed to wait until the portion on their plates had cooled down a bit.

"So, I heard Aidan come home earlier this morning," Chris eventually said before taking a bite.

"Dad," Allison rolled her eyes at him.

"What? I can't help but feeling concerned for Lydia. I can tolerate you hanging out with Isaacs - given that you are just friends and he seems to have come around pretty well. But those two - especially Aidan - they are dangerous."

The three of them poked around in their food, then Lydia continued to eat. After she had swallowed her next spoonful, she said: "I know, they killed people, they helped to murder Boyd - but Aidan never harmed me, he always respects when I say no and he came through for me when it mattered. So I really think he is more of a danger for everyone else, than for me, especially if that someone else is taking advantage of me."

"Is there someone taking advantage of you?" Allison suddenly asked.

"What? No - I mean what type of taking advantage are we talking about?" Lydia caught herself in time. "The ghostly-voice-from-the-grave-getting-me-to-do-thin gs or the can-you-find-the-next -dead-body-type taking advantage?"

They looked at each other for a moment, then Allison said: "Just in general …"

"No, nobody is taking advantage of me today, which is a nice a change …"

Chris sighed. "Girls, did something happen last night that I am not aware off?"

On that they agreed, they both shook their heads and went on eating. Allison eventually mentioned that Stiles called her, saying that she sort of blanked out when he had talked to her earlier. "So I did, if you need to know, Aidan was kind of being an idiot. So I was not in the mood last night and in the morning I am all over him and then he …"

Lydia was interrupted by Allison's father coughing, as he obviously had gotten something in the wrong throat. "Really, Lydia?" he finally said after clearing his voice.

Allison laughed until it caught on and both of them were sitting at the table with a very awkward looking Chris Argent.

"Let's get into that after dinner, then .." Lydia said and her friend nodded.

They ended up rehashing highlights from last nights party, when they were done, they practically hurried into Allison's room, where Lydia told her how much Aidan's attempt at sexy talk sucked.

"So what about you and Isaac? I don't believe for a second that your dad has no reason to not be concerned."

Allison rolled her eyes: "Seriously, as if he has any reason to worry. I mean, if we were then you know … but we are not … " Noticing the way Lydia looked at her, she was quick to add. "No, we are not - that's like the problem. I don't know, since I tried - Isaac kind of avoids being alone with me in the right environment. I think it might be his first time."

That made a whole lot of sense to Lydia. Anyone with half a brain was able to see that something more had been going between them. It certainly was more a slow bloom and not that wild crazy frenzy that had been going on with Scott. "First times are tricky - boys don't react well if they find out a girl has more experience and it takes forever till they got a clue what they are supposed to do."

"Scott, never had this problem - like past the first few times …"

"Really?" Lydia said with thoughtful smile.

"Oh don't even think about it!" Allison immediately said. "I mean, it's not like I still …"

Leaning back triumphantly on her friend's bed, she looked up at Allison. "No, absolutely not …not even a hint. I bet you rarely think about him anymore - if rarely is like every day."

If one thing was obvious, it was that Scott was still into her. Lydia had been able to tell that he was just interested in Allison back when she had kissed him. At least she hoped that had been the reason for how much of dreadful kisser he was.

"I do think about him, then I remember how absolutely crazy and unhinged I felt. Like it was heaven whenever we were together and when something happened that tore us apart it hurt so bad I hardly could think straight." Allison let herself sink down on the bed.

Lydia placed a hand on her friend's shoulder. "You were hardly thinking straight when you two were together."

"I know." Allison pulled a face. "That's why I really like Isaac, I feel normal with him. He makes me feel good when he is there and when he is not I don't feel utterly lost and needy. Not that I don't feel very comfortable with him around."

They sat on the bed for a moment, before Allison added a question. "You think, I am making a mistake?"

"You are asking me?" Lydia said surprised. "My last boyfriend dumped me twice, generally treated me for granted. The last few guys I had sex with are all killers and you're honestly come to me for dating advice?"

"Well, you are the only other girl, I know who also dates werewolves and you are my best friend," she shrugged. "Besides I can ask, no guarantee I am going to listen to advice - good or bad."

"My advice would be - if you want him - go for it. Ask him what his problem is, when it is first time anxiety, make it clear that you know what to do. That he should be able to trust you. If he does not - well - move on. Guys who can not handle strong woman are not worth pursuing."

Allison laughed and look admiringly at her friend. "I guess, I am a little bit nervous about it, too. Like what if I can't make up for his lack of experience? Or worse what he found out when it got serious, he just likes me?"

"If he does not want you, which I doubt very much, then at least you'll know." Lydia got up. "As for the first time, take it slow. Don't rush it - make him feel comfortable with you. Let him focus on your body. That's something you should always do. If you don't train them up right away - they might never learn."

Looking at her somewhat doubtful with her smile still half there, Allison eventually nodded. "I'll keep that in mind. You know sometimes I wish I had your confidence."

"You and not being confident? You go after werewolves with a crossbow."

"With weapons it is easy, you just shoot anyone who pisses you off. With boys - except for Scott - I always feel nervous."

Lydia rolled her eyes. For the life of her she could not understand what Allison's problem was. It was not like Scott had dumped her. She had broken it off and the guy was still worshiping the ground she walked on. At one point she happily described how he made her feel high on a kite and that she could not be without him. When Allison clearly could. Now, she was into Isaac because he apparently was the safer choice and that still was compounded by so many problems Lydia never had.

"What about you?" Allison suddenly asked. "Are you ever going to admit that you and Aidan got something going?"

"I told you, I don't need a boyfriend. Being with Aidan is nice but just because I am not looking right now, does mean that I never want to."

With a raised eyebrow, her friend said: "I'd be seriously concerned for any other guy you date."

Lydia thought for a moment if that might be the reason why she had not been looking elsewhere. Then she shook her head. "No, Aidan can be a bit intense but he is not going to slash up my dates. At least I don't think so. Then again he might try and scare them away."

A smile appeared on her face, somehow she liked that idea. While she did not like that possessive behaviour, somehow the idea of a riled up super jealous Aidan had some potential. Maybe that would get him to be a bit more lively and wild in the following make-up sex. Then again, he had a way of messing up moments.

"Oh, it is almost time."

They left Allison's room and just on their way to her father's study, they heard the doorbell ring. It was the twins. Lydia realised she was not really that happy about them arriving first. Aidan, however, was glad that she had come. Her friend gave her a knowing nudge, as if she wanted to say: 'What are you waiting for?'

"Feeling better?" Ethan asked her.

Lydia nodded. "I wasn't feeling bad to begin with."

Immediately, she noticed the look that went between Allison and Ethan, as if they were agreeing that she was not honest with herself. The thing was, she was not feeling bad - just weird. It was like something about Aidan annoyed her. Of course, she knew what it was. Ever since that damn sex ritual Peter had dragged her into, she had been aware that sex with Aidan could never be that wild and crazy. His incredible stamina did not make up for the fact that she had to instruct him all the time. That even then, Aidan often needed time and more detailed explanations. It was frustrating to know that the best sex she had ever had, had also been the most messed up, kinky scenario she had ever found herself in. When Aidan had touched her that night after her birthday party, she had been overwhelmed by how clumsy it had felt in comparison. It was just such a difference to be with someone who knew what do with her. Sex with Aidan was really good compared to others, but it was just not as mindblowing as she'd experienced it could be.

Luckily, the others arrived pretty soon and with Chris Argent in the room, eyeing Aidan disapprovingly whenever he was close to her, Ethan got him to focus on the map spread out on the huge table with the Celtic symbol underneath. Isaac stayed on the other side of the table from Allison. The way he kept looking at her, it was clearly just so her father would not notice that there was tons of unresolved sexual tension. Lydia was sure that not wanting Allison was not the problem Isaac had.

With the Sheriff arriving, their little round for today was complete. He eyed Ethan and Aidan suspiciously, like he always did, which sometimes made her wonder what exactly Scott and Stiles had told him about the twins.

"Okay, here is what we know. There have been five animal killings, the last happening on Monday. They have all been in different locations, some in and around the woods, others in town near remote areas. The two children have been killed during the day, one in the early morning on his way to school, the second one in the afternoon on her way home. So far there is no pattern to the killings that the FBI has been able to determine."

As he spoke he attached small yellow post it notes with details to the kill locations marked down with red circles. From the hand-writing, Lydia knew that those were done by Stiles. She had to agree with the lack of pattern. "What about the other killings, is there any connection?"

"At first we thought so, since the bodies were clearly torn and gnawed upon, the autopsy report made it clear that while an animal chewed and tore on the parts, they have been dismembered by an axe."  
That news caught anyone by surprise. "That means, that maybe those killings are not done by something unnatural after all?" Isaac was the first to come around.

"There was definitely something off with those crime scenes," Aidan said and was then supported by Ethan. "Yes, there was a smell that felt unnatural. If it had been a mortal with an axe and trained pets -we would have smelled it."  
Chris nodded. "It is highly unlikely that a man could hack apart another body without breaking into a sweat and leaving his scent behind."

"What else has the FBI found out about those killings?" Allison wanted to know.

The sheriff opened a folder with what seemed to be the autopsy report. "Yeah, first of the axe was not a wood chopping one but a medieval battle axe. Unlike with the animal killings, which had all different bite patterns, these have the marks of only one animal." Taking a deep breath, he added: "That of a wolf."

"That is impossible, there was no wolf smell on the crime scene," Ethan said.

"Yeah, but I thought I saw wolf tracks … " Allison's father said trailing off for a moment. "But I dismissed it because there were no tracks anywhere around the crime scene."

"You think, we lied to you?" Aidan bluntly said staring with crossed arms at Chris Argent.

Lydia could feel the tension clearly. The Twins had agreed to help but very reluctantly and only because Scott asked them. They still felt unwelcome, while Aidan had never said as much she had noticed. It was like they still had not figured out what to do now that the Alpha pack was gone. In theory Deucalion was still out there but since nobody had seen him since the eclipse, that had left them to figure out things on their own.

"I might have, if Scott had not made it clear that he had not smelled the scent of another werewolf either," Chris explained. "That means, if a werewolf is responsible for these killings, he knows how to mask his scent."

There was an uncomfortable silence, where everyone contemplated that possibility. Even though it seemed that nobody actually thought the twins were involved, at least the two adults in the room were not that comfortable with them. Then the Sheriff asked a good question.

"So, given that we know about at least two homicidal werewolves - anyone has any idea what they have been up to?"

Ethan shook his head. "We have not heard from Deucalion since that night."

"Then what about the other guy, the Hale guy?" Stiles' dad asked.

Isaac shrugged. "When Derek was still around, he was always hanging around, however we have not seen him since."

"Scott said he does not even know where he lives," Allison added.

Lydia felt like she should say something but she had no idea what. This was not the setting to share what had happened. With the last murder happening the night before he had kidnapped her, she had problems seeing him prepare the ritual and sneak upon the guard in the mall to drag him off into the next flower bed.

"We tried to track him for a time, Boyd and I, to figure out where he was living at - but we always lost his scent."

"Maybe we need to find and ask him, then," Allison said.

At this point, it was clear that they did went off on possibly the wrong track. Then again they might not. There was no denying that Peter had no problems to kill when it suited his agenda. There was always a reason for everything Peter had done. While the motive in this case might just be unknown to them, Lydia felt that something else was responsible. It was not just knowing that Peter had a busy schedule the past days; she had been with Aidan and Ethan when they had headed out to that murdered salesmen on the road. Whatever she had felt near that crime scene it had not been like anything she had sensed before.

"First, we need to find him," Christ reminded them.

"I could tell my people to be on the lookout, although I believe we do not have a picture - at least none with his face intact …"

The twins raised their eyebrows in unison, since of course nobody had told them what the deal with Peter was in the past months. It was not like they were hanging out all that much. It was mostly Scott who had tried to get everyone to get along, then of course the fact that Aidan was often at her place or the other way around. Peter had not been Lydia's topic of choice to begin with and around Aidan it just had never come up.

"Yeah, it's a long story," Allison said as she noticed the reaction.

Isaac nodded, then added: "I don't think anyone has seen him since Ethan went to warn Derek."

"Maybe he went with Derek and Cora, isn't he their uncle or something?" Aidan asked.

"He killed their sister, so I doubt they want him along," Chris explained.

That of course lead to more confusion and after looking at each other, it was finally Allison who began explaining the story. "This is the short, short version. Thanks to my crazy grandfather, you know the one who blinded your old boss, my aunt decided it was okay to burn down the Hale house and while Cora apparently escaped, most of the others died and Peter was badly burned in the flames. Last year about six years after the fire, he lured Laura back, who was the Alpha at this point."

Lydia could swear that more than one light went off, as the twins listened to that explanation. Maybe they knew a few details from Deucalion, maybe they just began to realise why most of them had been ready to give them a second chance, including the Argents: if half your family was homicidal you end up being a lot more forgiving.

"He killed her so he would heal faster. Before that he was in a coma with burns covering half of his face. As soon as he was better, he went after everyone involved in the fire. When he tried to kill me, we set him on fire again and Derek slashed his throat."

"Thus becoming the Alpha," Ethan scoffed. "Deucalion mentioned he killed his uncle but - how is he alive after that?"

Clearing her throat, Lydia felt like it was her turn to say something. "Before he went after Allison and her aunt, he bit me and for some reason that allowed him to spook around in my head …"

Aidan looked very angry when she mentioned being bitten, when her voice trailed down a bit, she was interrupted. "He did what? But if he was an alpha …"

"... why haven't I turned?" she interrupted his questions. "I am immune, I am something else. Anyway, one year ago he got me to knock out Derek." At this point, both twins laughed joined by Isaac. Even the sheriff and Allison's father were grinning a bit.

"Anyway, he knew this weird ritual and used Derek to come back from the dead. Since then he'd been lurking around. I don't know, I didn't see him again till we figured out where Miss Blake was keeping them and Scott's mom hostage." Lydia nodded into the direction of the two adults.

The sheriff cleared his throat. "Hearing the story again, makes me wonder why you trust that guy at all. I wish there was proof to arrest him for the killings but that you actually hang out with him?"

"Not for fun, he just knew stuff," Isaac said. "I mean, Derek did not like him but I guess he wanted to hear what he had to say, for some reason."

The urge to add to the conversation was there, but Lydia did not feel like saying anything for or against him. She rather wished that the conversation would move on and began looking again at the dates of the killings. While the animal killings were random, the two murders that had stuck out, had occurred exactly one week apart. It was not enough to determine that it was a pattern but it might be worth watching out on that night. Lydia said as much.

"Yes, we got everyone on duty that night and curfew will be moved to eight pm on that day, just to be safe. Not that we can possibly cover as much ground, we can just hope that by watching the roads, we can narrow down possible suspects by taking account who is out for work."

Allison sighed. "I have the feeling that whoever is responsible will know how to avoid police patrols."

"Which is why we got to be on the look out, not just for those murders. Whatever animals did kill the other people, they need to come from somewhere." Chris looked at the werewolves at the table. "We each can cover the areas around here and here."

Drawing circles around the two main areas near the forest where the killings had occurred, Chris began to describe how they could try and cover them, so that if the animals showed up they might be able to track them before they managed to disappear again.

"So in other words, you think the animals doing the attacks are also directed by someone?" Aidan finally said.

"Maybe even the same person, someone who bred hybrids, modified their jaws - someone like that might also keep a wolf and know how to make it seem like something else."

"Didn't we just agreed that the murders were done by a werewolf?" Isaac asked.

Lydia sighed. "No, that was just a possibility. Just because the killer knows how to mask their scent and Peter does the same, does not automatically point to his guilt. If someone came here, they might be aware that there are werewolves in Beacon Hills and this is just them being careful, in case that the pack present does not like what they are doing."

To her surprise everyone was listening and either nodding or revealing that they agreed with what she had said.

"Then shouldn't we ask Deaton, if he can make sense of what we have discovered? He said needed more information …" Isaac wondered out loud.

"Maybe he does not want to speculate," Ethan replied. "Deucalion said, that the Emissaries like to give out advice but they seldom share actual knowledge. Like they will tell you not to do something but neglect to tell you why that is."

The other looked skeptical but Lydia felt that this was not so far off. Not just because Peter had told her essentially the same, there was a certain reticence about Scott's emissary that even she had noticed. That with her having barely anything to do with him. Apart from bringing by Prada for shots, going there with Stiles once and that long time during the ritual, she had not set a foot in the building.

"Then why did he make everyone kill their emissaries, too? Just because they would not share information?" Allison asked.

"Because they do give good advice," Lydia said. "It's not about the knowledge they withheld, it was the wisdom they might share. Decaulion didn't want outside influence."

"I think, Lydia nailed it." Aidan suddenly said. "I mean, Morell was not lying about him killing Ennis. The moment she said it, he tried to kill her."

There was such disappointment and bitterness in his voice that Lydia could not help but take a step closer and wrap her arm around his waist. Much to her surprise, he did not made any stupid comments and just pulled her closer. This time she did not care about the awkward looks from Stiles' and Allison's fathers. She would not have cared if it was her own parents, not that they would know why they two men were uncomfortable with the development.

It was strange, suddenly he had pulled her even closer and there was this noticeable shift, when Ethan was standing closer as well. Lydia had heard the story how they had become part of the pack and how Deucalion had helped them. They had to feel particularly betrayed. That he had turned them into killers was one thing but that he had casually killed one of them must really burn. She found herself taking Ethan's hand.

"Ehm, yes, there is something else, we should talk about." Allison broke the awkward tension as everyone had watched that sudden display of them not so subtly comforting each other. "There is also these accidents that keep happening. Stiles discovered them, in each case there seems to be some confusion in the insurance investigation, which are all ongoing, as to how the accidents could have happened. Like the first victim was working on his roof, when he somehow hit himself with a hammer fatally in the skull. One blow - while witnesses did not see the hit, they know nobody else was on the roof."

Allison also marked the locations with a set of post-its this time in another colour, but also in Stiles' handwriting. "That was friday two weeks ago, the next tuesday, a man cut off his own arm with a table saw in his garage. He passed out and bleed to death. Next friday, a screwdriver ended up in a woman's eye - last tuesday, a man cleaned his drain and despite the electricity being switched off got his hand maimed and then died from a heart attack. This friday, a girl from our school, got electrocuted when she drilled a hole in a wall without any wiring. There was no visible damage on the drill either."

"Someone from our school?" Isaac said shocked. "Who was it?"

"Sally Warton, she was a freshman," the Sheriff explained. "It was all rather shocking, the father wants to sue the firm that made the drill, the mother is still in shock."

"You think there actually might be a supernatural connection?" Ethan asked.

"Well, I was at the garage and outside the house of the first victim, not that me not picking up anything is a guarantee that nothing supernatural was going on." Lydia had remembered how utterly uneventful that trip had been. Nice normal neighbourhoods and not a hint that anything creepy was going on. The whole visit had made her feel as annoyed as when Stiles had put the Ouija board in front of her. While she had accepted by now that she had some abilities, she still could not switch them on and off, so the result was basically the same. Only the frustration she had felt then was more directed at herself not at Stiles for wasting her time with what at the time had seemed pretty silly.

The sheriff sighed. "I give that these death are weird - but are we really sure that it is something supernatural causing this? Given time I am sure the insurance investigators will find something. Although, I could probably speed this up, if I can get Scott's father to look into that. The FBI lab examining the drill and the other tools might show if there was some sort of foul-play or just bad luck much sooner."  
"Is he back in town?" Chris said wearily.

Lydia recalled Allison getting into a lot of trouble for throwing that smoke grenade. They had sorted it out with him and the help of the sheriff, but tension remained. The Argents were not too keen on anyone looking into their business. Since that might alert the extended family and they really did not want anyone else noticing that they were still involved with werewolves. Even more so given the nature of that involvement.

"Yes, the FBI itself does see this as an animal control problem but Agent McCall is having a look anyway. Now, I don't want to be rude and start something with the FBI, especially with there being that much fear and panic in the town already over these deaths."

"Then better keep him occupied," Allison suggested. "So he can't stick his nose where it might get ripped off."

At least the three werewolves found that comment amusing. Nobody wanted to let him on their secret. Given that Agent McCall was an outsider, there was no telling how he might react and with his FBI connection he could prove to be the biggest danger to them. Luckily, Stiles' father had taken it rather well and understood that with the forces that were at play, the police could not solve all problems.

They talked a bit more about where the police would keep a lookout and where the Argents and the werewolves would do the same. Lydia knew she would not be able to help with that but at least with everyone occupied, she might have more time to look into active dreaming and if Peter showed up again, she could ask him about the killings or better yet, get him to spend the next night from Wednesday to Thursday with her. That would not tip him off about them being suspicious and if something happened while he was with her, that would mean more than him just saying he had nothing to do with it. Although the plan had a severe hole: how would she get him to stay that long?

'Yeah, Lydia,' she thought rolling her eyes considering how obvious that reply was, 'how could you get him to spend the entire night with you?' Then there was the question, if she did proved that he was not the one responsible, how would she tell the others? It would probably not go over well with the others if she stated he was helping her with her dreams and just happened to stay over all night.

Once they had decided on the right strategy, the sheriff left first and the twins and her relocated to the living room, while Isaac stayed behind with Allison and her father in the study.

"So, looks like you will be busy for the next few days," Lydia said.

"Through some of the night, the evening - but it's more a matter of chance anyway."

Aidan drew her closer, while Ethan leaned against the back of the sofa. "I wonder how I can explain all that to Danny."

"He still has no idea, does he?" Lydia said remembering how it had been when she was just as blissfully ignorant. Then she noticed how Aidan and Ethan were looking at each other. "What?"

Taking a deep breath, Aidan stared even more intensely at his brother. Finally, he stood up and paced, before finally speaking up.

"I want to tell him, I want to .." Ethan paused. "offer him the bite."

"Isn't that kind of dangerous?" Lydia wondered.

"Yes, that is part of the problem," Aidan took over the explanation. "First, he won't know how Danny will react to the truth. Even if he agrees, there is no way of telling him what his chances of successfully turning will be."  
"We have no experience with that and we could hardly ask Deucalion about it. I don't want to make the offer if all I can say is, yes it might kill you, but how likely it is, that I can't answer."

It was a difficult situation, Lydia was somewhat touched by how concerned Ethan was about giving his boyfriend all the information. It was easy to see how much he cared. In that way, he was so different from Aidan who always tried to act cool and tough. Lydia wondered what made the two of them so different. Then again, maybe it was just that Ethan really loved Danny and Aidan merely liked her. Not that she minded, she was not in love with him either.

"Have you thought about asking Deaton for advice? He might know the risks. The worst that might happen is him telling you not do do it, that he won't help and in that case, you know as much as you do now."

Ethan looked at her. "Thanks, that is an option I have not thought about. I guess, I have not even decided how to tell him."

"Maybe when this is all over we can go on a double date?" Aidan threw into the room. "Spend the evening together and then when you spring it on him, you have us close by."

"Sure," Lydia said. "That sounds like a good plan, if Danny needs a non werewolf to talk to, I can lend an ear."

"Maybe we should go upstairs? It's not like they like us here or us being together."

"I don't know, we should wait, I don't just want to leave without saying goodbye," Lydia said looking up at Aidan. "There is something else I wanted to ask you."  
Then she did her best to describe the other werewolf from the sex ritual, of course she did not mention how she had encountered him. It was just the physical appearance and from the look on Ethan's face and Aidan's hand holding her a bit tighter, she knew that they had seen a werewolf that fit the bill before.

"Where have you seen that werewolf?"

The question almost came simultaneously, she had no other resort but a lie, that she hoped they would not notice. "It was in a dream, some time ago, I just thought of it again … Why? Do you know who that might be?"

"Lydia," Aidan turned her around to look at her directly. "That description you gave - you could not have described Deucalion better if you saw him in person. Lydia?"

She saw the worry in his face, from how cold her cheeks suddenly felt she realised that all the colour had gone out of them. Her knees felt a bit shaky, as she suddenly realised the truth. Lydia had know it was not Derek. She had felt it from the get go. That ruse about the possession, that had been a clever half-truth, since they also called him the demon wolf, as she dimly recalled.

Suddenly, the true purpose of that ritual dawned upon her and it made her glad she had someone to hold onto. It did not even matter how he had gotten a hold of the powerful, lunatic alph. What mattered was that Peter had made her have sex with Deucalion.

* * *

Next chapter is a guest POV chapter from Allison's point of view. Then it's back to Lydia in chapter 8 and Peter will show up again, too ;)


	7. Out in the woods

A/N: Many thanks to MidnightMoonWarrior who helped me brush up the chapter and kelevra79 who put up with correcting my SpaG mistakes.

weregrrrl13 Why Peter used Deucalion will become clearer in the next chapters ;)

hellomarthamay Sorry, I am afraid the next chapter with some sexy time is far away ...

Glad to hear you liked it so far AndiCullen104 and bugmama90

* * *

When she looked up, Allison saw the full moon through the tips of the trees around her. Even though it shone brightly against the dark sky, she could barely see the ground beneath her. As she looked around trying to get her bearing a wolf howled in the distance. A few moments later, another wolf answered from a different direction. The sounds made her skin crawl, her knees felt shaky even as they kept her standing. It felt like a threat, because she knew what hearing a wolf howl had announced the last time. Death was coming and for some reason she felt it was coming for her.

Ever since that night when they had been attacked by Peter at school she felt like this too often to be healthy. There were times when she thought she had it under control, those times scared her for entirely different reasons. When she had been with her aunt or her grandfather, they brought out a side in her that made her feel even more afraid of herself than of the sound of the howling closing in on her.

Not that she was not profoundly scared at this moment. The howls sounded a lot closer already; with the distance between them melting away a battle with the lethal creatures seemed unavoidable. Even though she had her crossbow in hand, it hardly seemed enough. There was a fear that would only go away if she was faster, if her bolt left the string and if she could reload before the second one reached her.

Walking up the trail, she looked for a good vantage point to prepare herself for the coming attack. If they came into range of her crossbow, she would drop them. Her father always said this was not how they do things but Allison did not care. Maybe she should not have been out here all by herself but if the wolves came close enough, she would not risk them having hostile intentions. It was their own fault for acting like this.

Her palms were sweaty and she dried them off on her jeans, never letting go of the crossbow for long. This part of the forest was at least familiar to her; here she had hunted her first werewolves, captured Boyd and Erica and then of course not far from here was the Hale house and that was a place she rather forget but knew all too well.

Allison spun around as she heard something snap in the underbrush not that far from her position. Despite the relative brightness due to the full moon, she saw nothing move with the exception of the branches and twigs moving with the wind. Then another snap, different direction but she still could not see anything. There were just trees, some fallen but otherwise the forest was empty. Yet, she heard something closer, approaching her position.

Then it was so close she could swear it was just a few feet away from her. Only at the last moment, she looked up to the tree tops. Glowing red eyes stared down at her, a werewolf still in humanoid form but with black fur and face that was completely transformed with huge fangs. His claws had dug deep into the trunk of the tree about eight feet over the ground.

Turning when she heard a noise, Allison saw a second werewolf sneaking up in the same manner, only it was more wolf than man with a brown fur. Her bolt flew at it but before she could reload the other one lunged at her. All she could do was look up to see the claws that tore through her throat. Feeling her blood pouring down her body, gargled sounds came out of her mouth accompanied by more blood. Before she had a chance to fall, the fur covered body slammed her into the cold dirt. Her body was in shock and there was almost no pain. Just the horror of attempting to scream and not being able to.

The red eyes curiously looked down at her as she tried to breathe but could not: even if her windpipe was not filled with blood the massive weight on her chest made it impossible. The beast came so close to her face that it blocked out the moonlight; its hot, stinking breath was the last sensation she was aware of as her life violently ended.

Allison sat up; panting like crazy as she woke from the nightmare she had been having for months in different variations. The one thing that was always the same was her being killed by a werewolf in the dark of the forest. So far she had not told anyone about it. After all it would just worry her father, if she told Scott or Isaac they would feel bad. Since the dreams started after they had rescued their parents she just took it as part of the price that Deaton had spoken about. It was not like they came every night, only when she felt particularly anxious and powerless.

Looking at her clock, she realised it was evening; almost time to head out on her patrol with Isaac. Since they would be doing a lot of scouting together, Isaac was napping on their couch. It actually made Allison happy, that her father was that comfortable with him staying over. Considering that Isaac had gotten his full moon rage under control the very first time, he was even slightly impressed. Not that she planned on making her father aware what her intentions in regards to Isaac were. Allison was sure her father was not that impressed.

Sweat covered her and soaked into her clothing, there was just enough time to change, if she hurried. Even though the dream had left a numb after-feeling she found the strength and jumped up. Fighting off the lethargy, she peeled out of her clothing and threw them into the hamper before entering her bathroom.

Her first move was as always to set the dial to cold. There was something about the icy water hitting her body that made her feel alive again. It was only when she started shivering that she turned the water to warm and soaped herself up. Washing out the sweat out of her hair took her less than two minutes. Turning off the water she reached for a towel. After she had dried herself off, she used the hair dryer; with her hair still damp in some parts, she brushed it together going more for practical than pretty and set a new record in getting dressed.

Isaac was already up, looking more rested than she was. "Hey, are you ready?"

"Sure, we can grab a bite to eat on the way."

With that they left to head their assigned area, her father had insisted that she not go alone as he did. At first, she had protested then she had to agree that he was more experienced. Although the real reason was more likely that in her dreams she was always alone, she hated to admit it but she was scared to be by herself in the forest ever since, and Isaac did not mind accompanying her.

Of course, they would be able to cover more ground if they split but four groups, the twins each covering their own ground was already increasing their radius a lot. Once Scott got back with Derek and Cora they could almost double it. At least, if Derek agreed to come back. Given all the bad memories here, she would hardly blame him if she stayed wherever he had Cora had gone to.

They parked the car behind a shed, just in case a police patrol came by the road. From there they headed into the woods.

"I am glad my father asked you to stay over, even if it is just to make sure I don't go by myself after all."

Isaac nodded: "I think he can tolerate me as a friend."

"Yeah," Allison agreed with a sad sigh. "About that …"

Almost as if fate wanted to tell her that she should leave the topic alone, they heard something snap and went absolutely still. Then a rabbit hopped by in the distance. They continued on their way to the area they needed to cover.

"Well, not quite what we are looking for .. " Isaac said and after a long pause added. "Look, even if I was sure you had no feelings for Scott anymore, I know he still loves you - he is my friend, I just can't - it would be wrong."

Allison frowned, it was sort of what she had feared all along, she just did not have the heart to lie and say that she and Scott were totally over and that it should not matter anyway. Not just because Isaac would certainly realise she was lying. It was just so much easier just to focus on everything that had nothing do with Scott, then to actually think about that issue.

"I know - but he doesn't own me. I am sure he accepts that I have moved on," Allison said. "I'm not going to deny that there is still something - but I really want it to be over. It's making me feel like I'm not myself."

Looking to her side, she could not make out all the details of Isaacs face but she had the feeling he did not look too happy from what outline she did see. At this moment she wished she had brought the night vision goggles. It had seemed like she would not need it but the small sickle of the moon did not give off nearly enough light. Of course, she could use her flashlight but that would give them away and if she thought about it, so was their chattering.

"Let's talk about it, when this is over," she added.

At least, this was something they could agree on. It made this whole exercise a bit more awkward but then again she had to start it, it had hung over her head for a while and with talking things over with Lydia, it had just burned her into finally getting to the bottom of it. The bottom was exactly where she felt she was at for the moment.

The night went on long and tedious, they ate some of the sandwiches they had gotten on their way here but otherwise it was just silence interrupted by a few "Heh did you hear this?" Which most of the time she did not hear, given that Isaac's hearing was of course way better than hers. Making her feel completely useless, which didn't necessarily improved her downtrodden mood.

When they finally got home, they were too tired to talk. Allison wanted nothing more than to crawl into her bed and sleep off the frustration, when she finally remembered that she had wanted to call Lydia. It was 3 am and way too late now. Seeing Isaac head into the guest bathroom brought up the memory of her friend staggering out of it pale as a sheet. Aidan said she suddenly had felt unwell and that they would bring her home. She really had meant to call Lydia before heading out into the woods tonight.

Wondering if the Twins were already back or if she might catch them in the elevator, she realised she probably ought to send a text and call in the morning. **_Hey, Lydia overslept - but wanted to know how you are? Hope you feel better. Will call tomorrow._** When Isaac came back - ready for bed, she asked him to remind her to call. Given how they never had time for her last year, Allison did not want to fall back into bad habits.

Then she went into her room, once more falling asleep in her clothes. Only this time she was spared another nightmare and when she woke up in the morning, it was not even that late. Taking advantage of the fact that she had slept in her clothes, she peeked out of her room. Isaac was already up, reading something and her father was in the kitchen.

"Morning," Isaac said looking up from his book. "Your father offered to make breakfast."

"How nice of him," she replied. "Be ready in a few minutes."

That was not really what she needed, breakfast with her new not-really-boyfriend and her father. She freshened up and eventually braved the situation. Luckily, her father mostly talked about how uneventful the night was, if they heard or sensed anything of importance. The Twins had not called in yet so Chris would go up and talk to them later on. He was sure that nothing happened on their end either.

By the time they were finished, Isaac offered to do the dishes and reminded her to call Lydia. While she had thought of it, she was giving him a big smile anyway. Allison liked that he had remembered. With her father going upstairs, she decided to go to her room to have a quiet call with Lydia.

There was no reply to her text but since it was almost 10 am she hoped that Lydia was up already. The phone rang a couple of times and then went to voicemail. "Heh this Allison, just calling as promised, are you feeling better? Hope it is not something you ate?"

She added the latest part, just so Lydia would not think they thought she had had a bad dream again. While they all hoped to get more information, Allison was really concerned about Lydia. Besides, she did not doubt that Lydia would say if she had important information. Then she realised that she owed someone else a call.

"Allison, finally - have you talked to Lydia?" Stiles greeted.

"Yes, she was here for the meeting."

"How, did that go by the way?" He said before telling her that he was putting her on speaker.

Allison went on to tell him and Scott what they had come up with. They definitely agreed with checking out Peter if they could find him. She went on to tell them about their nightly surveillance and how they had not come up with anything.

"But there haven't been any new attacks?" Scott asked.

"Not that we know of."

To which Stiles added that this was a good thing, before coming back to Lydia. "So was she okay?"

"Yeah, I think she got a stomach bug or something. She looked a bit pale and the Twins drove her home. We talked a bit before the meeting and from what my dad told me, she does feel a bit left out because she is not on the taking action side of things. Lydia did make some great remarks during the meeting."

Scott sighed and then said: "Well, we just don't want her to get hurt again."

"But she is like actually sick, have you talked to her since then?" Stiles sounded worried.

Allison was not sure if he was still having a crush on her or if he was simply worried as a friend. If she was sure about one thing, it was that Stiles was just a friend to Lydia. Not that she would rub that in, it was bad enough for him that after Jackson, she had gone straight back to jock dating and then to Aidan. The worst thing of course, was that Lydia was assuming that Stiles saw things the same way or if she knew more, she acted if she did not.

"I left her a message and a voice mail, I am sure she will call back soon and if not, I will."

"I will call her as well ... or you think that might be a bit much?" Stiles wondered out loud, obviously Scott was not thrilled by the idea.

Allison had to agree, while some attention might not hurt, Lydia certainly hated if she had the feeling the others were conferring behind her back about her. It did seem a bit excessive, it was not like they had not seen or talked to her for days. "I think Scott might have the right idea, if you also call her and know about her being maybe slightly ill, then she is going to feel like we control her or something …"

"Yeah, okay - but you'll call me?" Stiles asked.

"I'll text you at the very least."

"Good, there is something else, Allison, Stiles had an idea for something you might want to look into as well."

"Yes, of course," Stiles cleared his throat. "I kept thinking that there could be some animals involved, you could do a search for missing animals - huge dogs, maybe zoo animals. If there is actual someone playing Frankenstein- he will have to get his body parts from somewhere."  
"That is a good idea, I will look into that," Allison sighed. "I just hope you can get Derek and Cora back here, I have the feeling we are not covering enough ground."

"Who knows with him?" Scott said. "He left for a reason and Cora hasn't been here for years."

"Talk to Lydia if she doesn't call you back, make up something so you have another reason to call her, okay?"

Allison rolled her eyes at how demanding he sounded, not to mention the detailed instructions as if she could not figure that out on her own. "Yes, I will make sure she is okay, Stiles!"

Now, she was convinced that Stiles was still crushing on Lydia. Which meant more drama if they were to hang out more often. Especially with Lydia cuddling up to Aidan like that, which was a disturbing new trend. While she pretended that Aidan was just a distraction, she noticed that he had felt down and that was not at all like her. Although it seemed since her ordeal she had become a bit more concerned about the well being of her friends.

After she had showered and dressed in something that had not been slept in, her father was back and said that the twins had not seen or heard anything unusual either. They all would head out again tonight. Allison mentioned the research Stiles had thought about and she and Isaac went to her room to look into it.

They did spent a few hours, looking up disappearances in and around Beacon Hills and finally discovered that Stiles' idea was not that bad. Two of the major Zoos closest to them had reported that a lion, two leopards and a bear had been stolen. A circus was missing a tiger and a Wild Reserve was reporting two missing there were several instances were really large dogs had been taken. In Beacon Hill's alone two big guard dogs had been stolen from a scrapyard.

Broadening the search, they actually discovered that there had been two more animal killings on the I-5 in the two weeks before they had started in Beacon Hills. They needed to tell the sheriff, so he could get Agent McCall on it and maybe out of their hair. When they finally stopped investigating this, Allison felt her stomach rumble.

It was late already, past 2pm and still no call back from Lydia. At least she honestly had some news to tell Lydia. Except she ended up with the voice mail once more: "Lydia, heh, we found out something, maybe you want to look into it as well. Call me."

After dinner there was still no phone call. She wondered maybe if they should drive by her house, just so Isaac could listen if Lydia was there and okay. That was still some time off, they explained to her father what they had discovered and he told them to print out the information and that he would hand it over to the sheriff. Whom he was seeing anyway before he would go out.

In the midst of them preparing the information, Allison got a text from Lydia. _**I am fine. Glad you made progress. Will call you tomorrow.**_

"Wow, that was short," Isaac said when she showed him the message.

Allison was not sure she liked the tone of it, while Lydia was always pretty precise in her comments; this seemed short and impersonal even for her. "Would you mind, if we drive by her house - I just want to make sure she is there and okay. Not knock … just …"

"... me listening in on her?" he finished the thought for her.

"Yes, I don't want to give her the impression we are checking up on her."

"If it means that much to you."

Isaac still did not like Lydia that much, most of the time it was not that apparent but sometimes it showed through. Just as she wanted to claim that she was not the only one who cared about Lydia, she realised that she had almost forgotten something. "Omg, I need to text, Stiles!"

It might be premature but there was no reason to worry him, if she found out something was up with Lydia then she could always inform him once she had fixed the problem.

Not that Lydia acting strange was always a sign that something sinister was going on. On occasion it was just a normal problem Allison tried to remind herself of that. Maybe Lydia had eaten something at the restaurant with her parents that did not agree with her. After all they tried to get her to eat all kinds of new fancy meals every time they went out.

Figuring it was better to be safe than sorry, she stopped her car almost two hours later as close as she dared in front of Lydia's house. Isaac sighed, slightly annoyed but rolled down the window and listened.

"And?" Allison finally asked.

"There is nobody else in the house, except Lydia in her room and I believe the second heart beat I'm hearing is from that dog with the stupid name."

"Well, if your parents tell you fashion brands are the most important thing ever, it's not that surprising that an 11-year old names her dog after one of them."

She knew he got him there, it was not like Lydia was the was she was for no reason at all. The important thing was she had come far from being the snotty freshman that had laughed at the idea of Isaac asking her out. Also Allison had told him that boys had no right to expect girls to say yes just because they were interested. To which he had replied that it was the way she had humiliated him in public and that had hurt. She had wanted to point out that maybe then asking her in front of others was not the smartest thing to do.

While Lydia was more confident by the time she knew her, Allison was pretty sure she would have laughed as well. Not out of mean spiritedness but out of nervousness. It was always so embarrassing when a guy you did not know came out of nowhere and expected you to go out with him. Since that particular event still was such a sour spot with Isaac, she had decided to let it rest.

"I don't really see what Stiles sees in her. Why he is making such a fuss. She's still a diva, probably sits there, reading a book on god knows what, being too bored by what we're doing." Isaac rolled up the window and added: "She's okay, her heartbeat is pretty normal, so can we please go?"

Allison started the car and drove off. "Come on, we can be glad she does not want to be out there with us, we'd need to keep an eye on her. Then you'd probably have to go with her, while I'd have my dad watching me."

"Okay, that we don't want - at all," he agreed with her.

The rest of the night was as uneventful as the one before, with the exception that this time she brought night vision goggles and saw a lot more. Frustration was setting in sooner than last night and she wondered even more if there was some intelligent force out there, that knew they were out on patrol, and as soon as they had to stop their patrols for exhaustion the killings would be back.

Allison was sure that if their suspicions were right and Peter was behind this he would just wait. His speciality seemed to be to creep around and wait for the right moment to strike. Although, she was not sure how he might have found out about the patrols. Then, of course, the area they covered was not big enough between them and he might just be active in another area - whoever it was. Allison was trying to be open minded - but she almost hoped it was Peter. She hated that he was walking around while her aunt stayed dead.

The crowning moment of the night was of course when they got a flat tire. She texted her father that they would be late, he replied that he was coming home later anyway but if they needed assistance he could come over. As if she needed help for changing a tire, especially with one eager helper around already. They ended up fussing around and by the time they had changed the tire and gotten home, they were dead tired.

Moments after them the Twins came back, reporting on how useless this effort was but that they were willing to give it one more night. Then they really should rethink their strategy, like questioning their suspects. While they had no idea how to find them that might be something they still had a greater chance of doing.

Allison was too tired and too much in agreement with this not really being successful that she did not give much an argument. They took the elevator and she gladly left those two behind, sitting down on the couch to send another text to her father. _**Back home. Twins didn't see anything either. Did you?**_

Then she just laid back and closed her eyes. It had occurred to her that maybe he did stay out longer because he had found something. Hopefully, not a dead body, she thought.

"Worried about him?" Isaac asked and sat down next to her.

She nodded. "Mind if I wait here till he comes home or texts back?"

"Not at all."

That was about the last thing she remembered for the night, it was not until early in the morning that she felt her father shaking her softly by her shoulder, that she became aware that she had spend the night on the couch. The grave look on her father's face was the first thing that struck her, and then she realised that her arm and leg were draped over Isaac's body. Thankfully both of them were fully dressed.

"Hi, dad, did you just come home?" she asked with a certain feeling of embarrassment.

Slowly, removing her leg, she turned to her father. Her cheeks were probably bright red considering how warm she felt.

"No, I came home a few hours ago. , found you both asleep on the couch. Decided not to wake you," her father told her, then looked past her. "I know you are awake, Isaac."

"Morning, Mr. Argent."

Isaac sounded about as unhappy and embarrassed as she was. At least, her father was not armed, so she figured that it was a good sign. Thinking about it, he could have done something yesterday. He let them sleep on the same couch. No doubt realising they were very tired. Just as he probably had been. Isaac shifted away from her and they both sat up.

"I think I need to go to the bathroom," he stated and then was gone in five seconds.

Her father gave her his what-do-you-think-you-are-doing-young-lady look and she cringed a bit.

"This is so embarrassing - but you don't think there is anything going on between us, do you?"

"I don't know, yesterday I thought - not. Today I find you practically wrapped around him."

Allison never knew she tended to cuddle up in her sleep, as whenever she had fallen asleep in Scott's arms, she had started out this way and then woke up alone.

"Yeah, about that - we're just friends. I don't know why did that. I was asleep. I wanted to wait 'til I heard from you. Guess we fell asleep."

"I recommend being more careful."

"What could happen? It's not like he could accidentally bite and turn me, he is not an Alpha. I don't get why you are so freaked out about it in the first place. I could be dating a lot of worse guys than Scott and Isaac."

She could see in her father's eyes that this subject was not open for discussion. Which also meant that he had no good arguments to make. It was not like she did not know there was some danger involved. Allison remembered Isaac freaking out in the janitor's closet when one of the twins had locked him in. However, she had hurt him far worse than that before.

"I'll go get dressed," she finally said.

Moaning as she realised that this was the third time in a row she had slept in her clothes. When she stepped out of the shower, she heard her father say something to Isaac, but she could not really make out what it was. Then a door closed and Allison decided to get dressed to see what was up.

What followed was probably the most awful breakfast she could remembered. It was her turn but having Isaac and her dad sitting behind her as she prepared the food, was topping all previous awkward silence experiences. Finally, she came up with a question to do something about it.

"Heh, did you give the information about the missing animals and the other killings to the sheriff?"

"I did, he said he will make sure that Scott's father looks into it. I have a feeling he'll be interested in doing that, especially now that Scott is on the trip with Stiles, I don't think he even knows how soon they plan on coming back. John has been abstruse on the purpose of the trip, so hopefully that rids us of him for a while."

That seemed to have broken the ice as they were finally able to talk about the last night and what they had discovered or more precisely what was not discovered. Especially, the conversation with the twins, which lead Chris to suggest a new strategy. They would wait for Scott to return, an then resume these stake-outs with full force. Today and tomorrow, the three of them would take a look at the Nemeton and the surrounding area.

The Twins certainly liked the idea, they had been humouring them anyway and the positive side effect was of course that Aidan could spend time with Lydia. There was no call back by midday, not even a text but Allison did not want to pressure her. If she was feeling sick due to some stomach bug, she would not anyone to see her throwing up. So if Aidan got the heat for that, it was fine with her.

Even if she was not sick, not joining them on their excursion through the woods was not that bad a decision. It was exciting to go out and hunt as long as something was there to hunt. Sitting around and waiting was terrible way to spend the time. Since looking around involved her father giving her another lesson on tracking animals while Isaac used his other senses to see if he could pick up anything else, Allison was glad when her phone rang.

At least until Stiles told her, that Derek had declined to come back. It was of course more of an 'I will think it over' but Allison figured that it had to mean no. For what was there to think over? Especially, now that they had a theory that maybe Peter was involved. That had to be a good enough reason to at least want to check things out.

Her father decide it was too early to decide and that at least with Scott in the mix, they could cover more areas and that maybe the Sheriff might find a lead on where Peter or Deucalion were at. At least with Peter, they might expect him to be still in Beacon Hills. Someone must have seen him or have a clue where he was living. He had mentioned an apartment downtown to Stiles, so that was where they were focusing on now.

Their search did not yield any results, although it seemed like someone had been there recently, which might as well have been anyone, considering that they all had stumbled around here before without even knowing the significance of the place.

It was the next day, when things got interesting. Relatively well rested, they had headed out to the Nemeton even earlier than on Monday. After two hours, in which she misidentified about half of the tracks they found, Isaac noticed a strange smell. Following it, they discovered a shallow grave that had been partially dug up by some wild animal some time ago. What stuck out were some bones and the ends of ragged clothes.

Allison was really grateful that most of it was still covered with dirt, as it allowed her to look away, when her father took a closer look. All he could say, was that the remains had been here since before November. Then they decided to call the sheriff, the decay was making it hard to say anything past the approximated height and from the bones only a forensic expert could tell the gender.

Besides they did not want to leave their marks on the corpse in case it was not a supernatural crime but an ordinary one. It did conclude their scouting for the day. All they could do was go home and wait until they got more information. Allison texted Lydia again, hoping that this might spark her interest, but all she got was another text, telling her that she would meet with Aidan tomorrow and maybe come over.

Later in the evening, the sheriff came by to tell them about the preliminary findings, but that was not all he had to say. There was something about the look on his face that told them instantly something had happened.

"Yeah, there has been another animal killing. This time it happened near the hospital, a nurse Kelly Sutcliff, whom Scott's mum had been working with."

"Again, no witnesses?" Allison asked.

"She was parking at the far end, nobody was around, and she was dragged off into the woods, pretty grisly. Melissa noticed her car, and when she came in for her shift and Nurse Sutcliff did not show up for the shift, they looked and found blood and drag marks."

"Damn", Isaac said, "I probably should head over, so she doesn't have to be alone."

A thought that even found her father's approval judging by the look on his face, however the sheriff had more news for them.

"That is very good of you, but when I drove Melissa home, Scott and Stiles had arrived back," he sighed. "I suggest we delay the necessary talk till tomorrow. Then we can all have another intelligence meeting or whatever you want to call it. This is really bad, we got over a dozen people dying violent death in this town, it's never been this bad."

The end result was that they phoned Scott and Stiles, trying to find out how his mother was and sharing the news about the corpse. Much to her surprise Scott seemed less than upset about Isaac staying over and sleeping on the sofa. He even suggested it was better he stayed over, since his mother was pretty shaken from finding her friend's corpse and he hoped she would be able to get some rest.

They all agreed to meet after dinner and figure out the best approach the situation.

* * *

A/N: Hope the POV change was not too distracting but since Lydia can't be around for everything I need to use other characters on occasion. Next chapter will be more Peter/Lydia as promised.


	8. Nightly Visitor

**A/N: Sorry it this took so long, unfortunately this chapter is not beta-read (but I edited really carefully so I hope it is readable).**

** wergrrrl13 Glad we're on the same page when it comes to Allison, while there is a bit going on with her and Isaac, it will just be a small part.**

* * *

**Chapter 8 Nightly Visitor**

While it had not been the most dreadful discovery she had ever made, Lydia had needed a few days by herself to take in the news that the other werewolf from the sex ritual had been Deucalion. She was torn from being absolutely furious to being somewhat resigned. It was her logical side that told her there was no reason to feel more outraged than before. All that had changed was that she was now aware of who the other werewolf really was.

In a way, it was even better that it was not Derek. That might have turned out to be awkward if he actually were to come back to Beacon Hills. Lydia had never met Deucalion - all she knew about him that he was a crazy, homicidal werewolf and she was not really a stranger to having sex with those. Of course, so far she had not really had the time to figure out how she felt about Peter using her again and in such a despicable manner.

At least, that was what her mind kept telling her. That this was totally inexcusable to use her like that. Yet, her feelings about the ritual did drift from anger to arousal; sometimes she was both at once. It was probably fitting that she did not hear anything from Peter for the next days. Lydia knew her reaction would either severely depress her if she went with arousal or get her into trouble if she let her fury get the better of her. After all, one slap to the face was hardly enough retribution.

When it came to the ritual, Lydia felt she had stumbled onto something important. The only problem was, Lydia would rather not tell the others about with whom she spent most of her birthday and nobody would hear the details of the sex ritual from her mouth. If there was any way to avoid mentioning it all together she would. At the same time, she knew if her hypothesis was true then she needed to warn the others. Given that she had no way to test it, she just had her own perception as clues.

That enormous power coming from Deucalion into her had been real. Lydia doubted Peter had any interest in helping the other alpha to recover from a demon possession. Stiles had told her that Deucalion referred to himself as the demonwolf. It seemed oddly fitting that even within his lie he would stick at closely as possible to the truth. While she had passed out and could not account for for where the power had gone, Lydia was pretty sure that Peter need not worry any longer about retribution from the twins.

If she told everyone what really had happened, Scott might let Peter off with a slap on the finger but Aiden would certainly not react that kindly. Even together with his brother he was afraid of Deucalion's demonwolf powers. If Peter had those, Aiden could get seriously hurt, maybe even killed and there was no guarantee they would be as lucky as the last time.

Even if her hypothesis was wrong, Lydia did not want Aiden to do anything to Peter either. Apart from the fear that he might once more spook around in her head, maybe even permanently if they did dispose of his body more thoroughly, Lydia did not want anyone being killed over her. If Peter had anything to do with the people getting torn to pieces, then that might be a reason. At any rate, she preferred it if both twins did not add more bodies to their resume. There had to be other ways to stop Peter, if he needed to be stopped.

While the others were surveilling the outdoors as they had planned in their meeting, Lydia was doing more than sitting idly by and let others deal with the problems. At first she had thought the book Yoon had given her was just immature new age drivel, but then passages started to make sense. While the others did their first round of the woods, Lydia started a little experiment.

Putting _Let the light shine on_ by Triumph on repeat so it played at a low volume in the back, she focused one particular set of lines. "Let the light that shines in your eyes, shine on me. Let it shine forever, let the light shine on me. We can build a dream together now." It was not even one of her usual songs but it was the first one that fit her strategy she was able to think of.

Repeating those words, she turned off the lights and with a flashlight in her hands she slipped into her bed. Lydia had not really expected it to work, but the way the author described this process intrigued her, made her feel like she could eventually do it. Much to her surprise it worked. The result was not perfect and yet more than the author had promised for a first try.

In her dream, she was in the darkness as usually. Only she felt the flashlight in her hand and saw it shining onto the dark ground. Feeling that thing in the darkness ahead of her, she tried to direct the cone of light toward it. Before she had even reached the knees, the flashlight was knocked out of her hands. Her scream woke her and she still felt the sting of the slap on her wrist while the flashlight lay on the carpet four feet away from her. Unlike when she had gone to sleep it was turned on.

What was supposed to be a beginner's exercise to bring a concept into a dream was a scary but smashing success. The book had said it took even gifted people who believed in this weeks to get something as simple as a light to work.

Then again she was a bit more than gifted, she was a banshee and while she still could not control her dreams, she had very successfully brought a flashlight into it. Lydia picked up the flashlight and switched it off after she had turned on her regular light. It was time to read through the book again. The second time she understood why she had tried in the first place. The things about influencing dreams, if she read between the lines, it was not just a guide on how to influence your own dreams, it was concrete hints how to shape those of others.

Like using familiar images from a person's mind. Which was precisely what Peter had done to her. There was no denying that influencing dreams was real: Lydia had lived through it. Not that she would ever tell anyone like her parents or the guidance counsellor. She wanted to tell Stiles but felt like she should wait until she actually could produce results. If she came out before that, Lydia was sure he would be impatient and would expect her to make it work yesterday.

There was stuff missing from the book as well, other things that Peter had been able to do. The book also did not account for the fact that she was a banshee, that she dreamt things without at least consciously initiating them. It was like she was both receiver and sender, only so far she had been more at the receiving end.

For the time being she needed to get into that dream and find out who or what was hiding from her. She used all strategies, not just from the book; she also wrote down everything she remembered about the dreams and her attempts to turn that light into the darkness. Spending more time in bed and sleeping made her miss Allison's calls and text. It also made Prada piss on the floor, which their housekeeper Mrs. Allen complained loudly about, when she came by on her regular afternoon look about. Lydia told her she was after all getting paid for this and until she lied through her teeth that she was not feeling well, it looked liked the housekeeper was going to explode.

She then went all motherly on her and offered to stay and cook her something that would take care of her upset stomach. Realising that she needed to cook anyway, Lydia accepted Mrs. Allen's offer, betting that what the housekeeper cooked was far better than any of her own attempts. On the upside, after that incident, she did not forgot to let Prada out again.

Her efforts gave her eight dreams in the period from the first dream to Allison's text about a new body being found around 10pm on Tuesday night. All Lydia had been able to figure out was that in the dream, whoever evaded her light was missing their right hand and possibly living in a crypt or somewhat underground with a stone coffin. It felt like she was making progress, even if she had not seen more than this. Maybe it was time to reveal it or maybe she could afford to give it another few days. Lydia would decide that on Wednesday.

Aiden had called her earlier and she had agreed to him coming over the next morning. She need to go buy some groceries since she was running out and he would be perfect to help her carry the heavy stuff. All she had left to drink was her mother's fancy Italian table water. The green glass bottle of San Pellegrino stood on her night table, given that she did tend to wake up with a sore throat from all that screaming.

If she was honest with herself, she liked Aiden coming over early for a different reason altogether. While a few days without sex were not a catastrophe, far from it, but she did feel like distracting herself a bit from that dreadful dream world. After all she had worked rather hard on the problem and she had always made it a rule to reward herself for working on something tedious or unpleasant. While this was not as boring as homework, Lydia needed and wanted some steaming, hot sex. Even though she did not feel like talking all that much with her voice being so strained from screaming her head off more than twice a day. At least her dream induced screams were not bad enough to alert all the werewolves in town.

After drinking some hot salvia-fennel-honey tea in the kitchen, Lydia went up to her room. She hung up a purple velvet morning robe for when she would have to open the door for Aiden in the morning. Then she stripped out of her clothes and took a longer hot shower before drying herself off and slipping into a cream coloured satin nightgown. Looking at herself in the mirror to see how it looked on her, which was notoriously good, she went to sleep in the usual fashion: soft music in the background, her hand wrapped around the flashlight and her mind filled with the image of light.

It took her a while to fall asleep, when she dreamt she found herself back in the place that smelled of rotten fish and moist, damp stone walls. Lydia tried again to raise the flashlight and explore the darkness. She was not always hit right away but the thing in the dark evading her until it suddenly rushed forward. Only this time as it was about to strike her in the dark, someone pulled her arm back and she caught a dreadful sight in the ray of the flashlight.

This time her scream was different: filled with pure panic that took her out of her dream and carried over into her waking up. The flashlight revealed Peter sitting on her bed: crouched over in pain. "You know that uncontrolled screaming of yours is really something we need to work on."

His tone was almost casual but she could tell that her scream was far from being just unpleasant for him. He took the flashlight from her and switched on the light on her nightstand. Calming down her breath, she finally managed to say. "That's what you get for creeping unasked into other people's bedrooms."

Only it did not sound nearly as firm as she had aiming for thanks to her voice being a bit ragged. Reaching for the bottle with one arm, while the other held the blanket in place against her thinly covered breasts, Peter leaned forward and gave her the San Pellegrino. As she took a few sips she used the time to figure out how she felt about him being here. It certainly had distracted her from that dreadful dream but seeing him sitting there infuriated her. He seemed to feel so utterly comfortable occupying her bedside and undressing her with his eyes.

Lydia wondered if Peter knew that she had discovered what the ritual had been really about. Thinking about that, just got her so angry again. Finished with the water, she screwed the lid back onto the bottle. It was more an impulse than a conscious decision: Instead of putting the bottle back on the nightstand, she turned it midway and smacked it hard on Peter's head. There was this really awful sounding crack and blood splattered everywhere.

He dropped from her bed to the ground and after a heartbeat Lydia rose from her position and leaned over to take a look. Blood had pooled a bit and covered his green shirt but the wound was closing fast, despite it being such a huge gash. "Oww." Peter rose seeming more stunned than anything, but not more than she was. "Here let me take that."

All her pent up anger had went into that blow but she had not expected that the result would be so spectacular. Her fingers were gripping the bottle tightly and she felt a pull as he took it from her and placed it out of reach on the ground next to the nightstand.

"You know you should be careful with these things - people can die from getting their skulls bashed in." Peter did a dramatic sigh and then sat back on the bed, leaning over her legs with one hand an inch away from her knees. "Just ask my old nurse - oh wait, you can't she's dead."

"Did you kill her?" Lydia had the vague memory of Stiles mentioning something about that.

He rolled his eyes. "No, Derek did. He was a bit angry at us, for that thing where we killed his sister."

"Your niece," she added.

Nodding he suddenly leaned forward. "Tell me, what got you so upset all of the sudden?"

There was something about his calmness given that she just cracked open his skull, that was both comforting and also upsetting. Somehow it was not normal to be struck like that and then be so utterly dispassionate about it. As the shock began to pass, she also realised that not for a moment she was afraid of retribution.

"Deucalion", she finally replied. "I mean of all the homicidal werewolves in the world …"

That made him laugh. "Ah, you figured that out." With a big grin left, he added: "I wonder what else you have realised."

Out of the blue, he licked over her cheek. Lydia realised this was where his blood had splattered. Looking around her, she realised that it was all over her bed and the nightgown as well. She heard him sigh again this time it sounded like he had made a realisation. Then she felt his fingers on her cheek turning her face back to his.

"Lydia? While I personally think you look rather sexy with my blood on your face, or blood in general," he stopped and then added more firmly. "Go - take a shower."

Peter lifted his hand and flipped back her covers. He sighed again and with the other hand on her back he moved her towards the other side. This was when she finally started moving. He was right, she needed to get the blood off of her. When she walked into the bath, she could see that most of it had landed on her hair, there were a few drops on the left side of her face, while the higher concentrations of splatter on the other side was disrupted by the spot that Peter licked off.

Without even bothering to take off her nightgown, she slipped under the shower and let cold water run over her head. Reddish water poured down her back and dress. Vaguely, she thought that she would need to give the gown to the cleaners. Unsure how long she had been under the stream, she became aware that she started to feel really cold.

Looking at her feet she saw that the water was now clear. Lydia took it as a sign to turn the water to hot. At which point, she realised the total absurdity of the situation. Why was she upset, when he was the one whose blood was all over the place?

Her heart jumped a bit when the bathroom door opened. Peter seemed just as indifferent about the bottle incident as before. He hung up the robe she had kept on hand giving her a relaxed smile as he proceeded to pull of his shirt.

"FYI, in that wet, light-coloured gown, I can still see _everything_," he told her with the hint of amusement. "But somehow it's more enticing this way. I still recommend taking it off and drying yourself off."

Lydia took a look at the nightgown. He was right, apart from it shaping her breasts a bit, the light fabric was almost completely transparent and clinging tightly to her curves. He had stopped looking and was instead bent over the washbasin where he had put his shirt. She found herself gaping. That night at the cabin she had not really seen him. Now, that he was completely bare-chested in her field of vision and Lydia realised how much he had changed.

Those two times she had seen him at Derek's place she had not noticed being so overly worried about her friend's parents, but Peter had gained a lot of muscle mass. In fact he had even broader more pronounced shoulders than her so very chiseled twin. Not to mention those strong, muscled arms and those very nicely defined abs.

Lydia tore her eyes away, trying to distract herself by thinking that it made sense that he had been leaner before having been in a coma for so long. Then there was the fact that he had been weakened from being dead. It seemed prudent to resort to regular workout as a way of gaining back the strength he had lost.

A thought that almost made her want to tell him what she suspected, instead she pulled down the straps of her dress and winded herself out of the clingy, wet fabric. Peter stole a glance at her, then went back to washing out his shirt.

"You know, we got more than one bathroom in this house," she complained half-hearted.

He chuckled. "I'm aware, I just felt it better to have an eye on you."

With that he wrung out the shirt and told her to get out of the shower. He casually hung it up over a towel holder after he removed one from it. As if it was the most natural thing to do he approached her and wrapped her into a big towel. Peter started to dry her off until she moved away. He did the same and then threw a smaller towel towards her. He left the room and she used the towel to wrap up her hair. Then he came back with her purple robe and held it for her. After she had slipped in, Lydia felt him wrapping his arms around her and laying his chin loosely on her shoulder. "Next time you feel the need to express your emotions, I'd suggest sticking to screams, physical violence isn't really you."

That was something they agreed upon; she nodded while fumbling with the belt of her robe. In the end it was Peter who did the job, leading her out of the bathroom. She immediately saw that he had removed the bloody covers and the sheet. There were a few sprinkles on the mattress and the wall but they were barely visible.

Looking around her room she realised she was missing a couch, maybe it was time to ask her parents if she could move back to the other, larger room. It had this nice window oriel where she could sit and read. Then again as long as she was screaming her head off, it was probably better to stay as far away from her parent's room as possible. After he lead her to the bed, she found herself sitting on the now bare mattress. Peter headed over to her dresser and pulled open a drawer.

Even though Lydia had redesigned her room he still seemed to have a general sense where she put her things, as he came back with another night gown and a pair of socks. He hung the gown over the edge of the bed and handed her thick woolen socks. Putting them on she realised how cold her feet had become.

"Why are you here anyway?" Lydia found herself asking.

He gave her a puzzled look. "I told you I'd help with your dreams, didn't I? Although as I see you have taken initiative." His gaze went over to the book. "Got this one from Yoon? Had no idea you were into Esoterics …"

Of course what he said made sense, her mind was still a bit off, like it was moving in slow motion. An unsettling feeling but she knew that it was shock. Something that could happen in connection with experiencing intense violence. What she had not been aware of, that said violence could be perpetrated by the person experiencing the shock.

"It was just an idea. I didn't want to solely rely …" Lydia stopped but Peter got her meaning anyway as he finished the sentence for her. "... on what I tell you. That's more like you - doing things the smart way."

Even though she had gotten a lot of sleep, she did not feel the least bit rested. Feeling drained and lost, she closed her eyes for a moment. "You're not upset?"

Lydia finally opened them again, looking up at Peter's face, who was standing in front of her in all his bare chested glory. Her attempts at ignoring this were not very successful.

"Are you referring to you not trusting me or crushing part of my skull in?"

"Both," she said with a hint of embarrassment, "I guess."

He sat down next to her, hesitated as if wondering what to reply. "I'd be disappointed if you trusted anyone too easily. You're too smart for that."

Looking at the grey socks on her feet, Lydia avoided his gaze. She felt like smiling but did her best to keep it from showing up. Whether he meant it or was just saying it to appease her, for some reason Peter was always complimenting her on her intelligence; even more often than on her being pretty. Rationally, she knew it should not matter what others said about her, yet, it seemed to mean more coming from him. He had always said it, even in her dreams when she would have done about anything to get rid of his presence, no compliments needed.

"As for you hitting me with the bottle - I probably had that coming."

Lydia made a face as she looked at him. "Don't think that this means I've forgiven you for what you did."

"It's okay, either way, we work well together."  
Peter pulled off the towel from her head and began gently rubbing the wet strains with great care. She began to suspect that he had some kind of hair fetish. Then recalled that she read in one of her magazines that hair kept fragrances longer than skin. She still shuddered when she kept going back to why she had needed to wash her hair.

Lydia wanted to lie down, her head felt light and exhaustion became more apparent. When he was done and the slightly moist hair fell down on her back, she was torn between finding out more and just stretch out on her bed. Then she remembered, that there were guest rooms to escape to. Before she went there, Lydia thought it might be better to get rid of Peter.

He radiated so much warmth next to her, that part of her just wanted to curl up to him and skip the guest bed. That was so inappropriate, if anything she should be telling him to go and not come uninvited into her bedroom ever again. Lydia still wanted to learn more about dreams but it would not hurt if he used the doorbell like a normal person if he came by. She hesitated to say much, partly because she was still beside herself and also as her throat hurt just a little bit.

"I need tea."

With that she got up looking for her slippers, finding that Peter was watching her curiously. Eventually, he told her where they were, before going on to add: "Maybe you should go to one of the guestrooms and slip into this, I'll bring you your tea. Then you can tell me about your dreams."

It was like he was reading her mind, she felt her heart beat faster for a moment. Of course, he just had reached the same logical conclusion, given that he knew this house. Peter knew way too much about her: living inside her mind for weeks had given him an insight perspective.

Lydia asked herself if Peter was also aware that she had counted on getting rid of him, considering he felt way too eager to seek out physical contact. Then she realised that while he was a bit too forward again, he was genuinely interested in her dreams. As she did not really mind this level of intimacy, given how cold she was, she was willing to let it continue till she had found everything she needed about her dream problem.

With him heading to the kitchen, Lydia quickly disrobed and put on the nightgown, which looked not as exciting as the other one but was warmer. Slipping back into her robe, she thought about taking her notebook along. It contained more than just dream descriptions but her own personal thoughts in between them. Not to mention drawings of an eye in various sizes. For now she liked to keep those to herself. Besides the area around the drawer where she kept it was sprinkled with drops of Peter's blood.

She would need to clean up tomorrow, maybe ask Mrs. Allen for help. That if she could think of an explanation that would not cause the housekeeper to alert her parents. Them coming back to fuss over her or even drug her up again was the last thing Lydia needed right now. Heading to the closest guest room she realised it was the one where Aiden had slept the other night.

The housekeeper had turned down the heat again, so it was quite chilly inside the room. The stylish brown furniture Lydia remedied the situation but crawled under the covers after fluffing up the pillow so she would sit comfortably against it. She did not had to wait long till Peter came back with her tea. He put on the nightstand to her left which was empty except for an old alarm clock and a lamp that he turned on.

Afterwards he switched off the big light and walked around the bed, where he slipped under the second cover. Lydia gaped at him, not really sure what to say. 'Get out' might have been appropriate but if she was honest, she welcomed the warmth his body radiated.

"Well, it's cold and my shirt is still wet," Peter replied to her continued gaze.

Lydia leaned forward to take warm tea mug into her hands, then before leaning back, she turned her head and gave him another look.

"What?" he asked confused by her wordless approach. Nonetheless, he did exactly what she had hoped for: spreading out his arms. Lydia made herself comfortable against his warm chest.

Smiling she said: "That's better."

This time he was probably the one giving her the odd look; not that she could see anything. Without a comment Peter wrapped his arm around her. Only then it occurred to her while he had invited himself before into her bed, they never been that close; apart from a few nights ago. While she was nipping her tea and letting the mug warm her hands, he adjusted the blankets so they were not between them anymore.

"How did the dreaming go for you so far?" Peter finally asked.

"I don't know," Lydia began. "I've got a better sense of the dream I couldn't remember. Since it's the same one and it's absolutely creepy, I figure it's probably important."

"Yes, that I'm certain off - just out of curiousity, is there a particular reason you're sleeping with a flashlight?"

That was a good question; she began to explain about the darkness that obscured her dream, how she first just got the smell of rotten fish and moist cellar walls, until she finally began dreaming a light into her dream in form of the flashlight. She just left out the entire number of attempts she underwent to lift it high enough to see the face of her adversary.

"Bringing it with me is no problem but whoever is there, he doesn't want me to see him. I'm sure it's a he and that he's missing his right hand." Her explanation was not met with an answer, he just ran his fingers over her arm. "Peter?"

"Just thinking, how many tries did you need to get the flashlight to appear in your dream?"

Lydia put the mug on her nightstand. "It worked on the first try - at least the getting it in with me part."

As she looked up, she saw from his mimic that he was impressed: "That's not bad, but then again it shouldn't surprise me, your mind is very sharp."

While she did feel incredibly proud, she also thought about how easy he had played with her mind. Although she wondered how much of that had to do with her not having a clue what was going on and how to defend herself against it. If she got better at this active dreaming, she might not need to worry about him coming back to haunt her.

"But I still didn't see anything," she complained.

"Yes, because you focused on the wrong strategy. You believed it was a matter of getting the flashlight up in time, to see the face." Peter explained sounding very much like a teacher. "If I was you, I'd choose a different strategy."

Lydia thought for a moment, then she realised the flaw in her plan. "A different source of light, one that allows me to see more from the start."

"Yes, indeed," he said sounding incredibly pleased. "It might not work as easy as the flashlight trick but considering how fast you mastered it."

"What are you thinking of?" Shifting she leaned even further onto him, wanting see more of his face without turning her head to the side all the time. After she had made herself comfortable, it occurred to her that this was objectively speaking messed up to let this happen and even to participate in it. Yet, she was feeling very content at this moment. Even his smug smile was not changing that.

"Try to control the scene, you said you felt it was a cellar or a mauseoleum - imagine that there are torches or at least yourself holding one. The light might not be the brightest but it might let you see more."

"Why now?" Lydia suddenly asked.

"Why as in why is this happening months after the ritual?" Peter asked to clarify.

That was not what she had meant. Shaking her head, she explained what she meant. "What made you come by tonight? Not that the other question is not good either ..."

Her voice trailed off a bit when she realised mid sentence that her hardened nipples were pressing through her nightgown against his chest. While it was not as thin as the other one, Lydia knew he had to feel them. Worse she had no idea for how long this was going on. There was also his hand which kept wandering over arm. Every time it rested for a moment, she was feeling a bit bereft and enjoyed it even more when he finally resumed the movement.

It was not a particularly arousing gesture, but the way she was draped against and over him, it was probably not surprising that her mind and body came back to that. The best thing to do would be disentangle herself, since it was not even that cold anymore in the room anymore. Lydia knew she ought to do exactly that but she did not want to. Her body was completely unwilling to follow her mind's very rational, sane recommendation.

"Hmm, I had things to take care off, like looking around the crime scenes among other things. Are you any closer to finding out what it is, that's killing off people?"

"Is that the point, where you try to figure out what the others know?" Lydia asked.

For some reason that only amused him; she had expected a different reaction. Suddenly he took her hand pulling it a bit over his chest. If he wanted to distract her by more intimate contact from whatever lie he wanted to sell to get her to share information, Lydia feared it might be working. His left hand intertwined with hers and his other hand was now caressing over her hip.

"Considering that the Argents, the Twins and little Isaac are aimlessly traversing through the forests, I had the impression you couldn't know all that much. However …" he abruptly stopped.

Lydia saw him staring at the bruises on her arm and wrist. It looked rather unpleasant but she had gotten used to them and barely noticed the hurt and discolouration anymore. It was like blind ambition had taken her over, making impossible for her to stop, even though she got hurt every time she did it. Every time, except the last one, when Peter had taken her arm and unknowingly spared her another hit.

"Lydia, where did you get these bruises?"

She frowned, the concern in his voice suddenly seemed real. "The thing in the crypt …"

"Damn," he suddenly said. "Lydia listen to me, forget what I said about creating a different source of light. You need to focus on staying out of that dream."

"Why? What is wrong?" A shiver went over her body, leaving goosebumps on her right arm. His tone was so serious and from his face she could tell that something was wrong.

"There are very few things out there, powerful enough to cause actual physical damage through a dream. I need to talk with Yoon, this is not good." He sighed and took a deep breath. "When you dream actively you open a path, like energy that flows towards the other entity. In order to harm you, that entity needs to sent his own energy against the flow of yours."

"So, we know whatever it is it's powerful," Lydia took from it. She felt slightly upset that Peter would deem her that fragile, that this alone would cause her to back off. "I can handle a few bruises, I'm getting closer."

He shook his head and then raised her hand to kiss it. "I know you're not the fashion diva who winces about broken nails. That's not the point. Letting go of her hand, his left cupped her cheek. "That thing on the other side, it's using the energy path to make a older bruising is the smallest, the newer ones are getting larger, more forceful. Now, imagine it gets even stronger and aims not for your arm but your head. You should remember what one well placed blow can do."

"You are telling me, it could kill me in my dream?" Lydia knew he was not joking around.

The thought disturbed her more than anything else. Feeling her heart race with the prospect of her dreams giving someone else such power over her once more, she rested her head closer against his shoulder. A gesture that was immediately followed by him pressing her against him.

"I don't think it has yet build up the strength - but we need to figure out a way to stop this."

It was odd but she did feel safer. Subjectively she knew that this was an illusion, however tight she was held would not stop someone from attacking her in her dreams. Objectively thinking, she recalled him interfering with her dream by taking a hold of your arm. "When you woke me tonight, why did you take my arm?"

Lydia needed to know, the end of the dream was fuzzy, while she remembered something made her scream, she could not remember what it had been. However, that paled in light of that something trying to harm her for real.

"Hard to explain, I felt you tried to evade something, since I can move much faster - I decided to get you out of harm's way," he explained in a tone that suggested it was not really all that special.

"You did, you actually affected my dream. But how is physically moving my arm going to do that? From everything I read in that book - it just does not make sense. Even the flashlight is just a help to focus my mind - it's not like I'm actually bringing it into the dream."

None of this seemed to make sense, like her actually getting hurt and throwing the flashlight across her room. Unless one bought into the notion that her mind was able to make the injuries real. All of it sounded like unscientific new age humbug. As these things were quite real, they needed to follow some rules. Something Lydia was able to wrap her mind around.

"While my action was supported by a physical movement, what really made the difference was our connection. You see, our shared bond most likely interfered with the entity's attempt to establish a more solid bond with you." Peter thought a moment and then explained more about how active dreaming was more an exchange of energy, that while thoughts could be transported, the visual part was mostly so the brain could make better sense of what was happening. Since energy was something that flowed through everything and even more so through beings who were alive, that energy could be influenced to make injuries appear; like letting a few arteries burst.

The explanation did help a bit but Lydia just had the feeling it would take her some time to go get used to all of this. Some of it just seemed too abstract and she knew she would need more experience to fully understand it. It was not one of these things that theory alone could teach. Whatever else she thought about Peter, he was a good teacher.

"The others think it might be you or Deucalion who did the murders," she decided to reveal.

"Really? Young wolves …" Peter shook his head.

Continuing to explain why the others had arrived at this conclusion, Lydia hoped she might find out something in return. "Isaac mentioned that you have ways to mask your scent - so that they can't pick it up. Whoever does the murders can shape-shift into a wolf and does mask their scent."

Lydia did not really understand why Peter found this so particularly funny but he was laughing softly at the notion.

"Except that I can't actually shape-shift into a wolf. That was a talent my sister had and any werewolf whose sense of smell is worth anything would have noticed the underlying distinct smell. The masking agent might prevent tracking and obscure the scent but something undead should be identified easily."

"It's something undead?" Lydia sighed. Of course it was. Why else would she be dreaming of a crypt and the stench of rotten fish? Although, it was of course not certain that the murderer was the same as that thing from her dream.

"The murders, the animal killings - both are", Peter said. "However, I've the feeling that it is not the same type of undead being. It's hard to tell without having an actual look at the bodies."  
"I'm afraid, even if the others knew what I know, they wouldn't believe it wasn't you. Even if Derek comes back and could confirm that there is something undead involved … it might not rule you out given that you've been dead."

That sounded so strange to say. It was the truth, she was basically talking to someone who had risen from the grave.

"I assure you I'm very much alive."

With that he took her hand and placed it over his chest making her feel his heartbeat. He was at least not feeling undead at all, not that she knew much about these things. Given the warmth he spread, the fact that he breathed and how strongly his heart was beating, Lydia was not doubting him on that account.

She had to think about a way to prove to the others that Peter did not had anything to do with the murders, without alerting them to what he had done. That way he might actually be able to help them figure out what was behind all these deaths. However, as long as they suspected and liked him in the role of the suspect, that would not happen.

While Lydia supposed she might be wrong about Peter being busy that night with chaining up Deucalion, it did not seem likely. Whatever was going on, she needed sleep to make sense of what was going on. Even a mind as capable as hers was in need of actual sleep.

"Maybe I should try and sleep now ..:"

It was a careful suggestion, one she hoped he would agree with. She was not sure if his shirt was dry enough but maybe she could get him to use their dryer and let her go to sleep. A hope that rose when he let go of her waist and was immediately crushed when he just stretched out his arm to switch of the lamp on the nightstand.

"Good Night, then."

He made himself more comfortable on the bed, moving her down along with him, as she still lay partially on top of his right side.

"Ehm … I meant …", she began.

Peter chuckled knowing exactly what she had meant, and then added. "I can go if you insist but my staying close will guarantee your safety, even if you can't fight off the dream."

That seemed like too much of a convenient solution. At the same time she was not sure what upset her most, that this was just a rouse to come onto her or that it might not.

"Why do I have the feeling you are just making that up …?" Lydia tested him.

"If I was making things up, it'd be more like: if we had wild crazy sex, that'd totally disrupt the flow of energy - hmm that doesn't sound too bad does it? Might be worth a try, now that I think about it."

The reply caused her to let out a soft groan, she might as well have expected this from him. Her own answer came out so quick, she hoped that he would not notice that is was a lie.

"That'd be the last thing on my mind!"

"Maybe on your mind - but your body seems pretty aroused and willing .."

It was not her words that betrayed her again. He was of course right, she had felt it before. The stiffness in her breasts, her hard nipples aching pleasantly against his chest and that unmistakable sensation between her legs. Not nearly as bad as the last time they had been together alone but it gave her a bad feeling out of the sudden.

"You didn't put anything in the tea did you?"

He laughed again, making her wonder why he seemed to always have such a good time, when she was at least partially too worried to enjoy this fully. Not that she should want to enjoy herself in his presence and certainly not like this.

"No, I did _not_! I swear this time your arousal is just the natural reaction to being close to someone as good looking as myself."

Given that the drug he had given her that night, would most likely have her stripping him out of his pants by now, she considered herself safe. It was not like she had never reacted to him like this. That incident with the patrol car came to mind. Lydia felt she had to make it clear that she was not willing to let anything happen between them.

"If you try anything," she said as firmly as she could. "I'll find out just how effective smacking you over the head with my mug will be. I don't care if I've to shower again - we've got more guest rooms."

More laughter from his end, before he assured her that he was going to behave.


End file.
